Muskokan Interlude
by Rookatthedoor
Summary: An Interlude in Henry's past. Set in 1962 in the Lake Country. Henry finds comfort and love and drama. Pairing with OFC Jenny. Henry reveals his true nature, will she accept him? Multiple OC interactions.
1. Chapter 1

Muskokan Interlude.

Set in the Muskokan Lakes District 1 ½ hours north of Toronto

Three Mile Lake…closest town…Windemere

August 1962

The vampire lay in the shallows of the lake. The night sky arched overhead in an endless vault, studded with pulsing points of light. Each was seen as a pinprick of energy that blazed and then retreated in that velvet darkness. Each reflected on the liquid dark surface of his eyes.

His weight rested in the soft silt on the bottom, the gentle contact of a multitude of small life forms fluttering around him, tickling the edges of his consciousness. His body lay stretched pale and slim, just below the lakes placid surface. Long pale limbs, a narrow waist and a swimmer's chest and shoulders lay half buried in the silt.

He lay completely at ease. The softest breath of air moved across his features, cooling them further. His head was tilted back as he viewed the heavens. Only chin, lips, nose and eyes emerged from the water. He could feel the cool rim of the surface tension, where the lake lipped his face.

Minnows waved hovering over his chest or nibbled with their gaping mouths as they explored the strands of his hair that floated weightless. His submerged cheeks and neck registered the feathers touch of those tendrils.

His ears were completely submerged and he could hear the breath of the lake. It was exhaled and inhaled across the pebbled beach just a few feet distant. It presented a soothing bubbling vibration. He found it a lullaby, orchestrated by the moon's solemn promenade overhead.

The night was still…the forest that stretched back away from the bowl of the lake was silent. There was no wind and even the canopy of branches had ceased their endless whisperings.

He lay motionless as only the predator can. He could hear the slow infrequent pulse of his own heart. His eyes closed and he felt the stillness of the living lake infuse him.

His mind settled and memory and thought were finally and blessedly overcome by the sensations of complete solitude and peace. This was as close as he could come to an approximation of the human sleep which was denied him. He drifted suspended in that tranquility.

It was a pleasure that he had discovered many years ago and was one that he indulged in all too infrequently.

"Come on Jenny, live a little!" An argumentative female voice shattered his serenity.

Too quick for human eye to follow the vampire retreated to the deeper water… without the smallest splash to betray his presence. He left only a folded texture of the surface…the shadow of disturbed silt, suspended in the water and a dispersing school of silver minnows to mark where he had been.

"Careless!" he chastised himself for being so far sunk in his musings. He hung in the water now, treading his legs to keep his eyes just above the surface. Though he loved the water, he didn't like to swim. His increased body density made it hard work to stay afloat. He relaxed slightly as he realized that his vampiric senses were not immune to the distortion of sound over the lakes surface.

He watched two women walk slowly out onto the aged dock that was at least 100 yards down the shoreline.

"You used to love to midnight swim, let's do it" one young woman challenged the other… who he assumed was the aforementioned 'Jenny'.

Even from this distance he could see that Jenny was dressed in some sort of service uniform, a waitress or perhaps a maid at one of the nearby resorts? The slump of her shoulders spoke of a world weariness that he would not expect to see in one so young. He thought her perhaps twenty three.

The other woman was younger, about nineteen. She was clad in a bathing suit with a large towel pulled around her body, against the night air.

The vampire silently moved closer to the shore. He sighed inwardly in relief, as his feet touched the soft bottom of the lake and his legs took up the support of his weight.

"No Lily, not tonight, it's almost two and I'm tired out. The tourists up from Toronto are running me ragged." Henry thought that Jenny's voice was tinged with regret.

"Ever since your divorce, from that jerk, you've been no fun at all." Lily countered petulantly.

"That jerk has a name Lil', he was my husband for almost a year after all." Jenny sighed loudly.

"Fine then… ever since your divorce from… that… big …jerk…ANTHONY... you… haven't… been…. any… fun… at… ALL." Lily said hands on hips and ponytail flipping about as she tossed her head side to side enunciating each word distinctly.

In the dark, Henry's lips curved upwards at Lily's outburst.

"Fine Lil' " Jenny relented, "tomorrow night after work." Then to forestall Lily's bouncing excitement at her victory "only if the weather is good."

Over the scent of the scrubby pines lining the lakes margins, and the verdant smell of the water itself, he drew in the combined scents of the two women.

He rolled them around in his mind teasing them apart until he was sure he could differentiate Jenny's from Lily's. Their scents were very similar. Sisters then, he thought.

He watched as they retreated, arm in arm, back to the shore.

Lifting his head he drew in the last lingering traces of her fragrance. He would remember Jenny… that he promised himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Only two in the morning… still in summer that meant that the dawn was a little more than three hours distant.

Earlier he had found himself disinclined to feed this evening.

Now his hunger stirred unfurling slowly behind the flat planes of his stomach. He waded in to the shore silently though the surface swirled and wrinkled in the wake of his passage.

Perhaps the camp ground just to the north of Windemere, he thought.

The town would be shut up tight, not that that would deter him but he felt he didn't want to see those deserted streets this evening. The lodge… well, it really had too much security to bother with when the camp ground was so much easier.

Moving swiftly through the trees he came to the bark path leading to the summer house that he was renting. He relished the softly discernable scent of cedar that arose with every step along the path, though he was less pleased with the sensation of the bark under the soles of his bare feet.

Augustus had been kind enough to find the cottage for him in the early 50's. It belonged to William Chadwick and his artist wife Ann. Over the years as they had become friends he had visited with them often. They had insisted on the sanctuary that had been excavated beneath the house and it had become a now familiar resting place on the occasions that he visited or rented the cottage from them.

The building itself was nestled among the trees facing the lake. Overhung by the wide porch… a wall of windows and sliding door reflected the lakes surface.

Through those windows one could see a short length of tall grass interspersed with the rocky outcroppings native to the area. There was a steep drop off to the lake. The trees crowded right to the water's edge on either side … their out flung roots groping towards the lake. No beach and no shallows. The water was dark and deep… easily twenty feet to the bottom off the rock ledge.

No lights glowed in the interior as would be natural for this area in the early morning hours.

Henry was careful to maintain appearances. Past experience had taught him well that there should be nothing to arouse any suspicion or gossip. The cottage sat on five acres. It was a large lot here on the lake but it ensured a reasonable amount of privacy.

Henry had discovered during earlier stays that the rules of hospitality were lax and informal in the cottage country.

Other vacationers as well as locals might drop by at any time to issue an invitation to a barbeque, to bring a gift of surplus produce from their garden, or to just check out what the newest member of their ever shifting inclusive community was up to. Gossip was one of the main forms of entertainment here…one never knew what might arouse suspicions …but then, he thought, that was part of the allure… the challenge.

Henry entered through the screened kitchen door at the back of the cottage. He navigated easily in the dark kitchen slipping past the mismatched wooden chairs and the scared wooden table.

Even as it reflected off the lake… the moonlight where it flowed through the kitchen curtains… touched the water in the basin of the sink, where a few unused dished lay soaking. More dishes were artfully arranged in the drainer beside the sink. In an approximation of human habitation, a tea towel hung from the handle of the oven close by.

The vampire startled… as the ancient refrigerator sprang noisily to life. He kept it plugged in and stocked with a few beverages for the sake of appearances. Since he had filled it on his arrival three days ago, he had not opened its door… even once.

The kitchen opened through to the living room. Overstuffed worn chairs and a battered low coffee table rested in front of a stone fireplace at one side of the room.

A large work table stood pushed against the far wall. In the moon washed dimness… the tumble of sketches, paints, rags and sketchbooks lay shadowed. The pungent scent of turpentine rose from the large bottle where his brushes hung soaking. Underlying the sharpness of the turpentine was the familiar mellow heavy scent of linseed oil. He smiled slightly to himself at the sense of relaxed pleasure that these scents never failed to evoke.

In front of the windows, overlooking the expanse of lake sat a large easel. The half finished painting in the darkness appeared as a grisaille version of the lake… It was a prop. Rendered in a romantic semi-realistic style… it was a salable piece according to the gallery for which it was intended. It was in no way indicative of his private work.

Henry disliked landscape work. In order to render the landscape convincingly he needed to draw continuously on very old memories from his years as a mortal. That in and of itself was wearing… and once a memory was resurrected, it could be difficult to let it go and consign it back to the past.

His senses as a vampire were considerably different than the senses of a human. He could not paint what he "saw" in any work meant for public consumption.

He passed silently through the living room to one of the bedrooms. He opened the closet and pulled out a pair of slacks and a dark shirt and dressing quickly left his swimming trunks hanging on the bed post.

Meticulous in the charade, he turned back the bed and rumpled the sheets… pummeling the pillows to give the impression that someone had just risen from sleeping.

Retrieving his jingling car keys, he silenced them by dropping them into his pocket. He let himself out through the sliding door at the front of the cottage.

His footsteps sounded hollowly across the porch floor and down the steps. The bent tasseled heads of the long grass brushed his legs as he passed. The moon shone down brilliantly but even if it had been the dark of the moon Henry would have had no difficulty.

He walked the short distance through the trees to where his car was parked just off the road.


	3. Chapter 3

Fifteen minutes later he was turning into the packed earth parking lot of the provincial campground. At this time of night there was no one in the little white booth at the gate so there were no questions to be answered. Henry had already switched off the headlights and he allowed the car to glide quietly to a stop.

He entered the woods silently, moving swiftly through the trees. Grey trunks stretched away in every direction… blurring by as he allowed himself free rein to travel. When he paused he glimpsed the moon between the branches overhead. The hunter was awakened…he could sense the other creatures of the night moving off in deference to the more powerful predator. The undergrowth rustled with small living being… at present beneath his notice. Hunger pressed at him; prompting him on … he moved parallel to the main campground.

He emerged from the trees at the edge of a level campsite. The canvas tent pitched at its center was old and large. He cocked his head to one side …and scented. Five heartbeats…In close proximity to a man and woman… three children slumbered within.

Forbidden! The hunger condensed into a tight ball inside him as he recoiled.

This response was instinctive to the vampire. The infant are forbidden as prey…women carrying the young or those tending the young are forbidden as prey. He retreated into the shelter of the trees.

A shadow within the shadows… the vampire hunted. He glimpsed an opening through the trees and discerned the smoke on the air…a second campsite. Coated black with soot a ring of stones circled a fire that had burned down to coals. There was no tent. A motorcycle was parked to one side of the fire pit.

Opposite In the dying glow of the fire, a sleeping bag was a large writhing shape.

Two humans coupled within. He could scent their arousal… the musk of sex hung heavy in the air. Their hearts thundered… curiously in unison. Their groans and whispered words of love formed a snare for the predator… he was drawn in…blood taken in the heat of passion was…

The burn of his fangs dropping brought Henry up short. He reasserted himself… reasserted his control.

"Too dangerous" he muttered to himself, "too dangerous." Not here and not now…

He moved on through the trees drawing to a slow stop just outside a campsite to the left that resonated with at least twenty young strong heartbeats. The night was disturbed by their laughter and the light of a large bonfire.

Young men postured in feigned battle, their voices loud … for the amusement of their female companions…bravado. If they had known what lurked watching in the dark… if they had even had an inkling of his existence… then their imagined courage would have fled.

The scent of alcohol hung is a drifting cloud on the air. Their music and voices floated through the trees. The hollowness inside of Henry was demanding…His ears picked up the sound of retching and then came the sharp scent of vomit.

Even the hunter was capable of pity. Henry moved on… he was fairly sure …that young man was going to welcome the sunrise… about as much as he himself.

He knew that the dawn was little more than an hour… perhaps an hour and a half distant. The nights were too short in the summer, if he didn't find something soon…

He was almost at the river… when he heard a female voice singing softly and the sound of running water. The bulk of a building loomed up on his left. It was brightly illuminated inside and the vampire's eyes narrowed at the brilliance. The swinging door, of the showers was closed.

Kamikaze moths fluttered and rapped against the globe above the door seeking a way into the light. The bulb inside the fixture was partially obscured by the corpses of insects that had found entrance and the oblivion of death.

It was not death that occupied the vampire presently. He could hear beneath the staccato rhythm of the shower, a strong and vibrant heart's beat. She was humming a tuneless song… the music of her blood was fast and melodic in the vampire's ears.

Henry waited in the shadows with the patience of the predator and was rewarded with the metallic squawk of the pipes and a dull thud as the water ceased to fall. A few moments later the vampire saw a tall lithe figure outlined in the brightness of the doorway.

Her head was swathed in a towel; she wore a baggy tank top over shorts. In her arms she held another wet towel and a toiletries bag balanced. She stood illuminated for a few seconds while she fumbled with a flashlight. The moths danced frenzied over her head.

He waited… with his arms drawn tight around his chest as though he could contain the hunger growing within.

He watched as she started along the path. She walked with careful steps, following the small circle of white light from her flash lights beam where it travelled over the ground.

Henry sped past her through the trees, faster than human eyes could see. He waited... as she drew parallel to where he was concealed he stepped directly into her path.

Her face came up as she uttered a startled squeak.

Her eyes met his…he had her.

She felt herself drop into a pool of pitch black and her will dissipated like mist on the breeze. Her body halted and her breath emerged as a long sigh.

Tilting his head to the side the vampire leaned in close. "Do not fear" he said… though in truth he could sense no fear on her. Her compliance was absolute. She smelled of floral shampoo and of soap and of ….life. Her body was warmly damp from the shower. The vampire could not help but take a heady breath of her.

Henry took the flashlight from her hand and flicked it off. Then he took her gently by the elbow and led her further into the trees. They came shortly… to a small hollow between two lichen covered boulders. The earth was blanketed in a mulch of the past year's leaves.

Henry un-wrapped the towel from her head and her dark hair came down in a wet tumble…he pushed it gently back from her face.

"Give me your things" he said as he took the towel and the toiletry bag from her hands.

She stood in dreamy silence as Henry spread the towels on the ground between the boulders. He turned back to her and took her by the hand leading her forward.

"Lay down," His voice remained smooth and calm… though the hunger now possessed him… he wanted to do nothing to frighten her.

Once she was reclining on her back on the towels Henry sank down beside her. He propped himself up on one elbow regarding her while she stared dreamily up into the shadowy tree branches high above.

She wasn't beautiful by current standards of the day. She was too tall, too thin and the unkind might have described her as plain.

Her face without makeup and scrubbed clean held an attraction all its own to Henry. The artist noted the broad clear brow and large hazel eyes, the sprinkling of sun induced freckles across her cheeks.

The vampire noted the glow of life that lit her from within…noted the flush of blood under her skin and across her cheeks. The vampire noted the pulse at her throat and the rush of her blood. The music it made suffused the night, a symphony…

"Look at me "…Henry commanded. She obediently rolled her head to one side, her eyes finding his face.

Henry knew that his eyes were bled black as the night that hugged close around them. His fangs had lengthened in response to her scent and he swallowed in anticipation. He held himself and the girl in iron control. "Do not fear" Henry said again.

Oh but he was hungry now…hungry for the life that she possessed. He needed to be close to that life… to taste it. He pulled the baggy tank top up to expose her breasts and she obligingly raised her arms so that he could remove it completely.

He slid slightly down and turned his head to the side laying his cheek in the valley between her breasts. With one arm across her waist he held his weight up on his other elbow. He could hear her heart pulsing beneath his ear. His eyes drifted closed and he breathed in her essence. "Do not fear…"

The swell of her breast rose up in front of him when he opened his jewel black eyes. A rounded mound peaked with the puckered rosy skin of the areola. His tongue flicked out of its own volition to taste the salt of her skin. Once he was started… he could not help himself and he sampled her skin with his tongue and lips in a wet trail over the arch of her ribs and then up to her shoulder.

When her arms came up around him… he was undone.

He raised his head and lifted himself higher along her body lowered his mouth to her throat. Though he sent no instruction she turned her head to the side to grant him access.

"I won't hurt you" was the last coherent thought he had before his instincts took over. Henry swirled away into the dark…as her blood flowed hot and salty sweet… as he took it into him…made it part of him.

Instinct shredded the barrier between them. Pleasure…his overwhelming pleasure became hers.

It was the vampire's instinct to send back to his prey the pleasure of feeding. He shared the increasing pleasure as her life force filled him, as what he lacked… she surrendered to him and he was slowly made complete. He reflected back the final relief of satiation.

Her arms locked around him now… clawing at his back and she bucked beside him curling her leg over his body… forcing him back onto his side. His neck held at an awkward angle as his fangs remained locked in her flesh…his hair brushing the ground now. Still he drew to himself that life giving substance and she ground herself into his hip as he suckled….

She interpreted the sensations he shared… in the only way a human could. She tried to draw him in. Her orgasm racked her body as she clung to him.

When he had disengaged his fangs and laved the bite… she rolled off him and lay back panting heavily. Her hands roamed over her own chest, her eyes closed. Her hair was plastered to her cheeks and shoulders. She sighed deeply.

Henry propped himself up beside her, listening. Her heartbeat though quick… was strong and sure.

He had less than an hour before he needed to be in his sanctuary. Standing he retrieved her shirt.

"Open your eyes" he requested.

Her eyes opened clear and untroubled… they were full of the luminosity of satiation… as were his own.

He held the shirt out to her but she only sat up and raised her arms wordlessly above her head.

He knelt again beside her and pulled the garment over her head and down her torso.

He lifted her wet hair free and arranged it on her shoulders then ran his hands tenderly down her sides. When he leaned his head in and kissed the bite below… he whispered into her ear "Thank you."

He rose again and putting out his hand he helped her to her feet. Shaking out the damp towels he handed them to her. She held them bunched in her arms along with the toiletry bag. Henry led her back to the path.

He briefly debated and then deciding… told her, "You are on your way to the showers…you feel well…all is well. You will remember nothing of me…"

He turned on the flashlight and put it into her hand aiming it at the ground. Her fingers tightened to grasp it.

He stepped away into the shadows and then… released her.

She stood still in the path for a moment and then shivered as though shaking off a dream. She took one step and then another in the direction of the showers. Just before she disappeared around a bend in the trail Henry heard her take up a tuneless little song.

He passed through the trees like a wraith and was in his car within a few moments. He was replete with her blood, his skin felt flushed with it. His body exalted in her gift. Her gift…he had denied himself even her name.

Henry crossed his arms over the steering wheel and laid his forehead on them.

Trembling he exhaled in a shaky breath… keeping a human in thrall while one fed took a great deal of effort… to hold oneself separate from their reaction took considerably more.

He knew what he was and he could not deny his nature.

For his own sanity… he must remain apart from his anonymous prey. They were so many and so fleeting… if he gave himself to them… if they each carried away a piece of his heart…then there would be nothing left of him at all.

Henry ran his hand through his hair. Then straightening in the seat turned the key in the ignition.


	4. Chapter 4

He passed under the weathered wooden arch of the gate and gravel crunched under the tires as he pulled off into the short drive way. Henry brought the car slowly to a stop.

As he made his way back to the cottage through the trees Henry heard from above the first tentative chirps of the birds from where they sheltered the branches.

He still had time.

The warmth of the blood coursing through him made him giddy…as it worked in him, he felt powerful… invincible.

He bounded up the stairs of the porch heading towards the sliding door.

There…a dark shape moving across the glass. He saw himself reflected... he paused and considered the shape of what he saw reflected there… a shadow seeking refuge from the light. Some untamed part of him stirred in response to challenge that the danger in the dawn presented…

He turned to look out over the lake. He should be seeking safety he knew.

He was four hundred and fifty years of age and still… he found himself rebelling at the bonds laid upon him. He fretted at the injustice of those limitations, as though he was still the impulsive seventeen year old, he had been when he was alive.

He should be in his refuge... but arbitrary in his rebellion… still he tarried. It wasn't so much… what he was denied… as it was the fact that he was being denied at all.

Ancient and childish…he dared himself…wait…wait for it…

A cocky smile lit his face and though his body thrummed with tension… he laid his forearms on the railing in an attitude of complete ease and stood for a moment… watching. Though it was fast approaching dawn was yet a few minutes away.

The surface of the water was growing ever lighter and there was a twisting smoke-like mist rising from the lake. The small islands offshore loomed as dark tree topped silhouettes, rising out of the mist. He tried to imagine how those islands would appear when the mist burned away in the light of the sun.

His shoulders tightened and the flesh prickled down his forearms…Instinct told him to flee yet he held himself still…

A loon sang out a laughing cry…Though he did not move Henry's eyes tracked it as… wings spread… it sailed low over the pearly water and then rose to disappear in the margin of the island trees… seeking shelter.

The shadows were retreating back into the forest as the dawn approached…his sanctuary was close at hand he reasoned… he held himself still a moment or two longer…the instinctive part of him wanted to retreat…another part of him wanted…wanted …

The cool heavy scent of the lake reached him as the scattered whistles and cries in the tree branches welcomed the incoming day.

He felt the first warning flush of heat across his skin. Between his shoulder blades his muscles contracted as though as in anticipation of a blow. He flinched away from the railing. The dawn was almost upon him.

Henry turned his back on the lake and moving in a blur through the cottage …went to the bedroom closet.

Thrusting the hanging clothes to one side, he slipped back the panel in the back of the closet and stepped through the opening. He turned and dragged the clothes back into place and then slid the panel shut.

In the dimness he leaned his back against the door and hugged his arms around himself. A wide grin split his face… so close...so close...the blood made him reckless and… alive.

He stood at the top of a very narrow staircase which led down to what appear to be a small low ceilinged storage space underneath the cottage. It was walled on two sides by rocky formations that emerged from the floor. These were the same formations on which the foundations of the cottage stood.

Descending quickly he crossed to the far wall. Easily he pushed aside what appeared to be a pile of boxes… revealing four steps down to a dark low tunnel. Entering, Henry turned tugging the 'boxes' back into place over the opening. The darkness was now complete and his body responded gratefully.

Crouching he moved along the tunnel for perhaps ten feet until he reached the opening in the floor. He let himself down the vertical shaft holding to the metal ladder attached to the side. Between the third and fourth rung his fingers found the switch that opened the door to his sanctuary. As the hatch slid open beneath him…he descended the last few rungs to his resting place.

He flicked a switch on the wall next to the ladder and a comfortably dim lamp illuminated the room. He had no need of the light… but long existence among humans had made some habits second nature.

He was in a small windowless and doorless chamber that measured perhaps ten by ten. The only access was the hatch in the ceiling through which he had just entered. His sanctuary was nestled below ground between the shoulders of the immense rocky formations over which the cottage sat. He was safe here… safe from the sun that was already climbing over the horizon.

The walls were papered with drawings and paintings. A low bed was pushed against one wall. A chair and work table the only other furnishings in the room. An open sketchbook sat on the table and a line of books were pushed up against the wall at its back. A series of salvaged containers full of various art supplies performed the function of bookends. Stacked in an upright position beside the table were several finished stretched canvases of different shapes and sizes interspersed with drawing boards and rolled bundles of various papers.

Even here…below the ground…Henry could feel the sun begin its journey across the sky. He felt it in the creeping weariness of his limbs and in the familiar lassitude of his thoughts. He slid the bolts in the hatch and then dragged himself to the bed. Stripping off his clothes he dropped gratefully to the mattress.

He was safe here… hidden where the sun could not reach him.

No one would find him while he lay helpless in the day's jealous grip.

He composed his body carefully, stretching out his legs and allowing his arms to drop loosely at his sides. Lying in an awkward position for the duration of the day's reign meant waking to cramps or stiffness. Even though he knew that no one else would see him the thought of his body sprawled in an undignified pose for the period of his… "Absence"… vaguely discomforted him.

He closed his eyes and waited… calm… as his breath grew shallower and shallower. He thought of the lake…pictured it cool and glowing perhaps pink or gold in the dawn light…the thought of the lake brought a memory of Jenny and Lily when they caught him musing in the shallows… He thought of Jenny's scent and thought that tonight he would…

The darkness took him unawares…

The early morning light stole across the grass and swelled to enter through the windows of the cottage.

Beyond the windows the birds began their song in earnest. The lake was a placid silver tinged pink by the rising sun. A rowboat had slowly crossed the surface… leaving a wake that dimpled the water into a long arrow of dark and bright lines. Farther out the fisherman dropped his line into the depths and settled to wait.

From the top branches of one of the pines, a lone crow dropped in a broad arc to the railing of the cottage porch. With shining black eyes… it regarded its reflection in the surface of the glass, cocking its head to the side. Then with a croak it launched itself into the air and went sailing away over the lake.

The dawn washed the walls and the furnishings of the cottage … swiftly painting over the night's shades of grey with color as the day took hold. The light crept through the bedroom window to brighten the rumpled bed clothes. In the kitchen it sparkled in a bright highlight off the chrome handle of the refrigerator rumbling noisily to life once more.

As the sun swung completely free of the horizon… the day illuminated the canvas resting on the easel in the living room.

The lake was portrayed there… almost as it appeared now. If the painting appeared slightly foreign to the human eye… as if in absolute focus… if the colors seemed strangely intense… if the landscape seemed to throb with a glowing life force all its own…well… there was no one to comment.

Below in his sanctuary the vampire slumbered.


	5. Chapter 5

The arches of her feet ached unmercifully…she shifted from one foot to the other as she stood at the pass through to the kitchen of the bar. Tomorrow she was wearing flats no matter what!

"I will not look at the clock…I will not look at the clock"…she repeated to herself. The last time she checked… it was five past nine…she kept her eye's resolutely turned away…clock watching only made the time crawl by slower. Surely at least another half hour had passed…

As she waited she tapped her tray lightly against her thigh, in time to the music that was playing on the jukebox.

Five songs for a dollar she thought, five songs and good old Ray always picked the same five in the same order every time… like clockwork. He'd drop the quarters into the slot. The 45's would be drawn one at a time by the mechanical arm into a neat little stack… then behind the curved glass, the first would drop to the turntable and once again she would be moving to someone else's music…

"Stop that" she told herself shaking her head.

"Order's up Jenny!" Reggie said from the kitchen behind the pass through counter. Then he continued…"That's the last burger and fries for tonight. Anyone asks…tell them the kitchen's closed!"

Jenny laughed. "I've been telling people that the kitchen closed at nine… for almost an hour now. Stop taking orders and turn off the light. They can eat candy bars and chips from the checkout now if they're hungry."

"Good idea!" he said as he flicked off the kitchen light switch. His grey whiskered face grinned at her, framed by the pass through… "What do you say to a spin around the dance floor with an old man, darlin'?"

As she loaded the plates on her tray she said… "As tempting as that is Reg'…I think I'm going to have to pass, my feet are killing me."

He clasped his hands over his heart and with an exaggerated look of pain said forlornly… "Shot down again" then…" See ya tomorrow sweetie!" His grin was obscured as he drew the plastic doors of the pass through closed.

Jenny cringed inwardly at the use of the endearment. 'Sweetie', that's what Anthony used to call her when he…

She shook herself clear of the memory…sweetie….

She started through the crowd … balancing the tray up at her shoulder. There were a couple of near misses as she swerved this way and that. In the end, she made it without incident to table twelve at the far edge of the room and delivered the food and drinks to Mabel Ingres and her husband Art.

Jenny placed the bill face town on the table top and then leaned in close so that she could catch what Mabel was saying over the music.

"…dreadful racket!" the middle aged matron exclaimed. "How are you doing dear, after…you know?"

Jenny knew that in a small community like Windemere her very public divorce had been the topic of many conversations and much gossip. She hated it…yet she knew that it was a reality of small town life. She also knew that the genuine sympathy and concern evidenced on Mabel's plump face… was the other side of that reality.

She virtually had to shout to make herself heard…" I'm doing OK Mabel, it's just going to take me a little time to get over it…you know?

Art put his weathered hand over hers where it rested on the table. "Well we're rooting for you kiddo!" He said.

"I know" and Jenny meant it when she said "Thanks."

She started back across to the bar, weaving her way through the dancing couples.

The dance was in full swing. There were even folks down from the lodge this evening.

She glanced up again at the wall clock, a red and white neon affair hawking the wares of the Molson's Company. It was a quarter of ten.

Her gaze travelled to the windows… each swung wide to collect whatever breeze might come up off the lake. Through the fine mesh of the screening she could see that now at almost ten…the sky was finally relinquishing the rosy shades of the sunset and was deepening to the violet shades of night.

As Jenny made her way back to the bar she was thinking of how cool the lake would be… of how relaxing it would be to lie floating on her back in the dark, looking up at the stars appearing one by one overhead… of how quiet…well, strike quiet… she _was_ going to be with Lil' after all.

Jenny said under her breath, "When you think of the devil…then he's sure to appear"… when Lily entered in the Recreation Hall's doorway… as if summoned.

Lily's eyes scanned the crowded dance floor and when she caught sight of Jenny as she raised a hand in acknowledgement. She worked her way across the floor stopping here and there to exchange greetings with a few of the dancers. Once she reached the bar she hopped up on a stool and with both feet on the footrest she swiveled back and forth.

"Hey! Jenny… I'll have a beer please" she said brightly.

Jenny lifted the lid of the cooler and pulled a bottle of Coke from icy water. She popped off the top in the opener attached to the cooler's side and put the bottle on the bar in front of Lily… "Here's your beer" she said just as brightly…imitating Lily's head toss to perfection.

"Buzz kill…" Lily muttered. And then brightening she continued… "So I brought your suit and stuff…it's in the car, we're still on for tonight, right?" "It's so hot in here…" and without pause for breath continued…"Pete can't you turn the fans on?" she said to the bartender…and then switching streams again she wriggled in her seat…inquiring to anyone within earshot "Any cute guys in here tonight?"

Jenny shook her head and laughing responded…"Yes, yes and haven't really noticed"… "Never mind Pete, I'll get the fans"…as she thumbed the switch for the large overhead fans.

Pete leaned past her and flicked the switch for the mirrored colored light globe that hung high above from the rafters of the wooden roof and he dialed the house lights down. "Most of the older folks are out of here now so we'll just liven' it up a bit for the kids." He said.

A kaleidoscope of colored lights and reflections slowly spun around the now darkened room.

Between taking and delivering drink orders and talking with Lil' the last hour of her shift crawled slowly by, though Jenny was buoyed up by the fact that the soothing waters of the lake waited patiently for her.

She leaned on the bar and taking hold of her neckline … pulled the damp cotton of her uniform, in and out away from her chest creating a slight waft of cooling air against her skin. She rubbed the sole of one foot over the top of the other trying to ease the ache.

Jenny thought …only another twenty minutes and she and Lil' would be out of here and on their way to the lake.

She suddenly winced as Lily nudged her sharply in the ribs with her boney elbow… "Jenny…Check it out!" Lil' said in a stage whisper.

"Ow! Lil' don't do that…" she complained rubbing her side, as she automatically followed Lily's gaze.

"Ohhhh!" Lil' whispered close by Jenny's ear…"Who's he?"

Jenny looked across the room at the young man who had just entered.

In the swirling of the lights and the dimness he seemed of a medium height, slight but well muscled judging by the way he moved. He had a strong jaw and cleanly chiseled features. His hair was long and wavy caught half in the upturned collar of the suede jacket that he wore over his shirt, in spite of the heat.

His head was held high almost aloof…though he seemed a little ill at ease. His eyes squinted slightly as though he endured some small discomfort.

Jenny knew who he was…though she had never seen him…Vera had told her yesterday …there was an artist…an eccentric…who was renting the Chadwick's place for a couple of weeks.

What was it she had said…? Jenny searched her memory…oh yes… that her husband William had been out on the lake night fishing. He had passed by the Chadwick cottage at about midnight and had seen the lights on in the living room. From the boat he could see a young man at work at a drawing table through the windows.

William, nosey as ever, had watched him drawing and moving about for over an hour before he had finally rowed on … as the fish weren't biting…but William had described him clearly to Vera… and… Vera had quoted William as saying "strange fella…with hair like a girl." Then Vera had caught her breath and mumbled…"Oh… I'm sorry Jenny…"

All this passed through her mind as she watched him…

He lifted his head almost as if he was trying to identify some fragrance and then he seemed to scan the room. Before she could look away, his eyes met hers.

His expression never changed and he made no move towards her. He held her gaze for a moment and then his eyes moved on… to touch on Lily beside her and then on past to continue their inspection of the hall.

Jenny felt a strange tension go out of her body as she released a breath that she did not realize she had been holding.

"Whoa…he's hot" Lily exclaimed…apparently uncaring of who might overhear her opinion. "I wonder if he's staying up at the lodge."

"Lil'…Shhhh!" Jenny glance up at him again…he remained quite still in the doorway.

"He's renting the Chadwick cottage…you know the big place about two miles along the shore…the one opposite of Dalton Island." Jenny whispered.

Her eyes dropped to the bar and she busied herself straightened the containers resting there…for some reason that she didn't understand herself…Jenny didn't want him to think that they were talking about him.

Lily's voice ran up almost an octave as she all but squealed "Ohhhh Ho!" …she swung her body on the stool and her eyes around to Jenny… "What else do you know…come on spill it… he looks absolutely… yummy?"

"Quit it Lil…" Jenny snapped and then said more evenly, "I'll tell you later …OK?"

She glanced up again to where he had been standing…but the doorway stood empty. Her eyes searched the crowd but she saw no sign of him.

He must have found whoever he was looking for… Jenny thought gloomily.


	6. Chapter 6

It was a gentle drop…no more than a twitch in his shoulders where they lay against the mattress. He hung for a moment between there… and here…suspended and waiting.

The ache began below his heart a burning… building… desire… to live.

His lungs expanded as he drew in a long gasping breath.

Here… it flowed in through his mouth and down into his body. Here… where his heart beat again. Here… where he could open his eyes. Here… where his limbs once again came under his command. Here… where he was…safe in his sanctuary.

Henry rolled up onto his side. He always… returned completely awake once the sun had dropped below the horizon. There was no grogginess… no residual effect of the deathlike slumber to which he daily must succumb.

And if he retained any memories of the nothingness of that slumber…well he had long ago learned to ignore them.

He swung his feet to the edge of the bed and sat up, indulging himself in a very human like stretch of the muscles along his back and shoulders.

He reached out and picked up his slacks from where they lay discarded on the chair seat. Retrieving it from his pocket… he popped open the lid of his watch and looked at the time. The face read five past nine. He resolutely put the pocket watch aside……clock watching only made the time crawl by slower.

He didn't need a clock to tell him that the blazing circle of the sun had just dropped below the horizon…his biology told him that…what he needed the watch for… was to estimate how long it would take for the light of the retreating sun to die down to the point that it was safe for him to emerge from sanctuary.

Henry knew that he would need to wait almost another hour. It was the height of summer and the days were long. The rosy glow of the vanished sun hung in the sky and waged an extended campaign to postpone the advent of the night.

Normally… he bitterly resented the time he had to spend awake and yet imprisoned …waiting for the safety of the deep evening.

Sometimes he paced the tight confines of his sanctuary restlessly… as though by the force of his will alone… he could make the time of his incarceration pass.

Sometimes he was serene and composed… and he lay completely still on the bed imaging the lengthening shadows and the darkness that grew ever more substantial beyond his refuge… while he courted the demise of the sun's last rays.

Tonight… he had something he wanted to do.

He slipped on his slacks and his shoes… for some bizarre reason he found it impossible to work in bare feet.

Crossing to the work table he flipped open a large wooden box of well used soft pastels. Clearing a spot on the crowded surface he taped down a large sheet of deep blue, rough surfaced pastel paper to a drawing board...he set to work capturing Jenny.

Though he had only seen her at a distance there was a clear image of her in his mind. He focused on that image with eyes closed… honing and refining it.

He pictured her nestled between the roots of a tree that was reaching out over the lichen covered rocks to the water.

He laid out… first in broad strokes… the background features of the drawing and then roughed in her slim body reclining between the outreaching roots as though she were resting in the trees embrace. Straight trunks took form standing sentinel in the background.

She sat with her leg drawn up and her long fingered hands clasped in front of her shin. Her face looked out directly at him.

He captured her finely arched brow over the brooding eyes...the straight nose and high cheekbones.

The smudge of his fingertip… deftly created the slight hollow to her cheeks that indicated…adversity.

A few strokes defined the bow of her upper lip and then plumped the full lower lip that spoke of a passionate nature.

As he lay in the shadow underneath… the line of her jaw emerged… strong for a woman but then softened by the roundness of her chin.

Here long shapely throat dropped down to a deep hollow between prominent clavicles…the pale highlight where the light dropped on those defined angles… led out to her shoulders. With a few strokes he rounded and contoured them… blending again with tip of his finger.

Then he pulled himself back to work in the foreground as he found his way along the shapely length of her slim arms to the hands clasped below her knee.

He returned to her face and with bold sure strokes… sketched in the feature that had initially caught his notice. Her dark hair stood in complete disarray… cropped short as a boy's…nowhere more than scant inch and a half in length. Coupled to her spare frame it gave her the air of an adolescent male… yet she was very distinctly feminine.

He worked his way back over the eyes… picking up speed as he brought the drawing closer to completion... he sank her eyes slightly deeper in shadow and then captured their luminous blue as she looked forthright off the page. Her intense gaze was challenging.

His fingers were flying now as he worked back and forth across the drawing... true to his own perceptions… he enrobed her with the transparent flowing deep gold of her aura... he netted her with the branching network of life that was radiant beneath her flesh. He brought into high relief the pulse points of her body… bright with the animate glow of existence. Her radiance over spilled her physical being and spread to meet and blend with the green life force emanating from the trees surrounding her.

He reworked her lips so that they were slightly parted as though she were about to speak... he stopped...tilting his head to the side… he regarded her …nodding …he uttered her name...Jenny.

She stared back at him from the page…both gamine and sage…glowing with life and embraced by the trees of the northland.

He held the portrait upright and tapped in on his knees two or three times...the resulting rain of loose chalk… colored the material over his thighs.

He pushed his hair off his face and then ran his stained fingers through his hair leaving a trail of blue green streaks as he studied the drawing critically...

He held it away at arm's length...yes that was Jenny. Resting the portrait against the wall he reclined back on the bed regarding her. Crossing his arms over his chest, a puzzled frown lowering his brow…he considered…there was something there… beyond the pulsing life of the human prey… something indefinable that called to him…what was it?

Henry realized that while he had been occupied with the drawing… true night fallen at last.

Leaving the portrait… he rose to his feet and quickly pulled himself up the ladder, sliding back the bolts of the hatch. A few moments later he stood at the top of the stairs behind the panel in the back of the closet…he listened carefully.

The slight frown marring his features smoothed as listening… all he registered was the peaceful chirping of the crickets… and the rumbling of that damnable refrigerator… no human hearts beat in the vicinity.

Sliding back the panel he let himself out into the bedroom. The night was short…if he wanted to find her he would have to hurry.

He stripped off his clothing and dropping it in the hamper and headed quickly to the shower.

He shook his head in chagrin as he saw in the mirror the colored chalk smudges across his brow and in his hair… would he never learn?

Pulling back the shower curtain, he turned on the water. He adjusted it to run at slightly above human body temperature. A human would have found it cool…to Henry it was… stimulating.

He stepped over the lip of the tub and closing the curtain behind him…turned his face to the water. He allowed the shower to run over his face and then stepping forward allowed it to drench his hair. Raking the wet curls back with his fingers …he reached for the shampoo. He washed quickly and efficiently.

He could feel his flesh still cool beneath the warmth of the sluicing water. Only blood had the capacity to allow him to maintain a higher temperature for any length of time… he was about to reach out to turn off the shower when on a whim… he let his fangs drop and his eyes darken.

He raised his face and allowed the forceful stream of the shower to… fill his mouth and then overflow down his chin and onto his chest.

Henry held his eyes closed. He was perfectly centered within himself and the cottage and the lake drifted away… he concentrated on the sensation….His mouth was overflowing with heated liquid…it ran hot down his neck and over his chest… his mouth filled with that overflowing heat faster that he could swallow…

Then swallow he did… once… twice… his mouth filled with heat again….

He snapped his jaw shut… retracting his fangs.

Standing back he licked his lips… tasting the lake and the bedrock of the well…not the sweetness of blood. He ran the spread fingers of both hands through his wet hair.

The hunger twitched in its sleep … he steadied his control…slightly shaking his head in negation of his own imagined fantasies…

No more than ten minutes later he was fully dressed and striding through the dark to his car… he would try the lodge first…


	7. Chapter 7

The lodge was well lit…a large structure of river rock and decorative timber washed by the floodlights located in the gardens. The windows glowed with a twinkling light refracted from the beveled edges of their leaded glass panes.

Henry passed under the log pillars of the portico and drew open the double leaded glass doors of the lobby. Large and tastefully decorated with just enough wood to give a stylistic nod to the northland…the lobby was elegant and polished. To his left was an archway that appeared… from the scent of chlorine… to lead to the indoor pool. Henry pinched his nostrils… mercilessly quashing an urge to sneeze.

To his right beyond a similar archway Henry could see the white linen dressed tables of the 'Northwood Restaurant'. Its air conditioned enclave was still filled almost to capacity, even at this hour, with patrons lingering in conversation over rich desserts and coffee or liqueurs. It had a jewel-like quality of refinement in this isolated woodland setting.

Henry's mobile lips pursed… in a slight moue of distaste. The underlying scent of dead roasted flesh always had the effect of rendering him slightly… repulsed.

He could pick up not a trace of her scent as he sifted through the air. He was sure that she not here… and he found himself surprised at the intensity of his disappointment.

Skirting the… (_In his opinion ostentatious_)… floral arrangement on the table under the dangling chandelier, Henry approached the front desk.

There was what appeared to be a very supercilious concierge in a dark black suit tending the desk …though it occurred to Henry that he appeared to be guarding it rather than tending it.... Everything in the man's body language screamed…MINE…stay back!

Inside Henry the predator stirred uneasily sensing a challenge. As he approached…Henry read the brass name tag pinned to the concierges' lapel. 'Frank'.

Wonderful thought Henry… well then Frank…

***

Frank looked down his nose at the young man approaching the desk. He thought he was an excellent judge of character and of quality. He thought that his first impressions of people were always accurate.

His lips tightened he gave a disdainful little exhalation through his nose.

His impression of this man with his long tousled hair, smoky blue eyes, and soft suede jacket, was one of trouble.

Snobbish to the extreme, Frank thought that he …could always tell the ones who were trouble…not the kind of clientele that he thought the lodge should cater to.

Frank thought he saw arrogance in the attitude of the young man's head, how he held himself… his chin high. And to his dismay Frank thought he could sense a slight air of danger about his person.

Henry came right up to the desk and leaned across it, resting on his elbows… to be that much closer to "Frank the concierge".

Henry was couldn't resist baiting him…just a little.

Frank involuntarily stepped back a pace…he hated it when people invaded his personal space, then he forced himself forward again. No young punk was going to unsettle him. 'Bohemian…' he thought 'Artist…' and those descriptions were disparaging… in his mind.

"Is it Franklin or Francis or perhaps Francisco?" Henry inquired…

"I beg your pardon?" Frank asked…momentarily nonplussed by the question…

"Your name, man!…your name…Henry asked as though he were speaking to a simpleton…"Is it Franklin or Francis or Francisco?"

Henry saw the man's jaw clench ever so slightly and heard his heart rate climb…

Henry knew then that he had guessed correctly… 'Frrraaannnk…' was just a tad sensitive about the commonness of his name.

Tight lipped, in a flat voice the concierge replied… "It's just Frank."

Henry did not retreat, smiling slightly he inquired…"Well…FRANK…I'm looking for a woman…"

"I'm sure you are" Frank interrupted and then he continued…. not bothering to disguise his contempt "however, I'm afraid WE can't help you with that."

The vampire withdrew a fraction and then meeting Frank's eyes, said in a low voice … "Oh but I think you can."

Henry took hold of the lapels of Frank's jacket drawing him closer until their faces were only a few inches apart.

Frank wanted desperately to look away but his eyes were held riveted to the dark blue irises of the younger man. He licked his lips nervously.

"She is slight, almost elfin… small and beautiful…deep blue eyes and extremely short black hair, standing out at angles, all over her head." Henry said.

Frank was caught up as those blue eyes seemed to darken further… their black pupils dilating. His throat worked…his Adams apple bobbing just above the knot of his tie. Suddenly Frank didn't want those eyes to find him lacking…

Henry continued… "Her name is Jenny."

"J-Jenny… s-short b-black hair…" Frank stuttered "you must mean, Jenny Flores… oh wait she changed it back to Phelps after all that ruckus surrounding her divorce." Frank's voice increased in pitch and he spoke faster in his rushed to tell those inquiring eyes… all that he knew.

"Where might I find her?" Henry asked unrelenting.

Frank hurried on anxious to please "She waits tables down at the Recreation Hall… just east of here."

And then in a more conniving tone… as though he sought safety by establishing some common ground with Henry, "We certainly wouldn't have… her kind… working here."

"Her kind?" Henry questioned, one eyebrow arching upwards.

"Well yes!" Frank seemed to regaining some of his haughty demeanor… He lowered his voice to a complicit whisper… "That whole affair… with her divorce was scandalous! As far as I'm concerned a man has a right to keep his wife in line …whatever way he sees fit. A few bruises never killed any bitch and improved the temper of many…"

Henry balled his fists in the material of Frank's jacket and pulled him very close.

He was suddenly and unaccountably furious. He hissed against the sweating throat."You… will… never… speak… of… her… like that …again." He gave Frank a sharp little jerk to emphasis his point.

Henry scanned the area around him…there were no other humans in the vicinity.

He allowed his eyes to darken… to fill with the night.

Frank felt as though his heart were trying to escape from between his ribs…he whimpered quietly.

"You will forget this conversation…regretfully you were unable to answer my questions."

Then grinning wickedly Henry continued… "You have a splitting headache… your dinner is simply not agreeing with you… you'll need to go home sick tonight…perhaps tomorrow as well. "

Henry released Frank's jacket and then smoothing down Franks lapels…withdrew.

Frank regarded the blue eyed young man in front of the desk blandly. "I'm sorry that I couldn't be of more assistance" Frank told him formally. He lifted a hand to his forehead and rubbed at the insistent throbbing behind his temples… then paled at the sudden wave of nausea that swept through him.

"Well, thank you anyway" Henry smiled politely. The greenish grey color of Frank's complexion and at the beads of sweat dotting his forehead struck him as deliciously amusing.

"You don't look well." Henry said solicitously.

With one hand in front of his mouth Frank shook his head… and then he turned and fled through the door behind him.

As Henry turned to leave, he thought… he really should not risk using his powers of persuasion for such a petty revenge…it was really beneath him.

Smiling broadly… he pondered the fact that… sometimes petty revenge was the most satisfying type.

Straightening his cuffs beneath the sleeves of his jacket…he walked into the night air… He knew where to find her now.


	8. Chapter 8

The tree's sped by in the margins of the headlights, blurring as he drove down the dark two lane highway. Moths and other insect… that loomed momentarily brilliantly in those beams… either collided in destruction with the cars windscreen or flashed by to resume their own travels through the dark.

He questioned himself as he drove…the intensity of his response to Frank's words… troubled him.

When he found her, _and he had no doubt that he would_…when he found her what would he do? What was she to him? Why did she elicit such a powerful and protective response? He did not know the answers to those questions.

He did however know… that once roused, once his interest was engaged… there was literally nothing that could deter the predator.

At present, he wanted nothing more that to see her… to breathe in her scent… to try and understand her attraction and the pull that he felt…

It was close to eleven when he arrived at the Recreation Hall. Henry had to admit that the building had a certain rustic charm… the first story was built from logs, the second story was timber framed and it had a barn style, cedar shake roof. Its bulk was a dark outline against the cooler blue of the night sky…warm light and music was streaming from the windows and open doorway.

Though much larger…it reminded him of his father's hunting lodges…nestled in the forest…a warm and welcome haven following the excitement and exertion of the hunt… all timber and trees.

However… his father's hunting lodges never had a parking lot full of cars or the number of couples coming and going that Henry saw here.

The building had a long row of double windows… all of which were swung wide to catch the evening breeze off the lake.

Henry parked at the dark far end of the packed earthen lot and then began walking back to the entrance of the hall. The parking was illuminated by a single lamppost at its center…whose light was defeated by the shadows… far short of the perimeter of the lot.

He tried to keep the smile off his face… as his vampiric hearing and sensitive nose… told him more about what was going on in some of those parked cars… than their occupants might have cared to have had disclosed.

There were people everywhere, arriving or leaving or just standing around gossiping. So much for remaining out of sight and unnoticed…he thought. As he passed…he nodded agreeably to the few faces that turned his way.

When he was close to the door… the lights in the building suddenly dimmed and circling disks of colored lights and reflections spilled out of the windows to paint ground and the trees at the edge of the woods. The effect was beguiling…like a fairyland…he thought.

Henry's footsteps slowed as he came to the door…he paused and wrapped the leash he held on the predator… tightly around his wrist before he entered.

He could sense them within… crammed together in that hot tight darkness…they danced… they touched…their hearts beating and blood pounding in a huge thundering roar…the scents of their sweat and of their arousal were heavy in the air.

He brought the predator hard to heel …he had not even passed the threshold yet.

That fire of pulsing life was all the more tempting for its contrast with the cool stillness of the forest surrounding it.

He firmed his control…and lifting his head in challenge… entered…

The dark closeness of the interior was lit by floating circles of colored light and a myriad of tiny glittering reflections… he squinted his eyes slightly against the movement of the light …in this enclosed and heated space it was strangely and uncomfortably disorienting.

The music and the overwhelming hum of a host of conversations… overlay the hammering of a multitude of hearts. He heard the shifting of feet on the sprung wood floor. The rustling of clothing and the sibilant sound of flesh against flesh as they danced… filled his ears.

Recollecting his purpose he scented…searching for the one remembered thread in that tangled skein…he had it… grasped it and followed it back to its source with his eyes.

There she was… standing at the bar ...a slight gamine woman, thin and long necked…somehow elegant even with the boyish cap of shorn dark hair and the wilted uniform. She was so slight in stature… he could not comprehend how she could encompass the draw she exerted on the predator. The sense of familiarity… of kinship …of being connected….the desire to go to her… to protect her were so intense.

She stood shifting from foot to foot and talking to her sister seated beside her. She had been watching him when his eyes had touched hers ... and he had indulged himself with a moment's hesitation… he wanted to see her…watch her… to understand what it was…

Move on…move on…. before she fears…his instincts shouted. He pulled his gaze away looking briefly at Lily and then on past further around the room.

He breathed in her scent blended with so many others and he stood rooted to the spot.

She blushed prettily as her sister whispered something in her ear. She raised her eyes in his direction again but he willed his gaze to the middle distance between them as he stood stock still… yet the focus of all of his senses narrowed to exclude all else…

Something in her called out to him...she was human of that he was sure...nor was it a blood call…in the way that blood calls to blood… but there was an affinity all the same… as though he held some part of her or she of him...

His pupils dilated and his eyes widened slightly…

He had to leave!

He had to leave… right now! he thought.

Before he went to her…before he caused a scene…before he attracted undue attention in this place….

In an instant, he had retreated out the door into the cleaner cooler evening air… He scrubbed his hands over his face...and curious glances turned towards him...an older gentleman in a t-shirt and shorts, sporting a battered hat full of fishing flies… put a friendly hand on Henry's shoulder. "You OK...son?" he inquired.

When he found his voice...it wasn't the animalistic growl that he had feared... "Yes"...he managed to croak..."Yes...just a little overheated...thank you."

He gathered the shreds of his princely dignity around him and made his way across the lot to his car. However... he kept walking past the car and allowed the dark woods to enfold him…

***

Doubling back around Henry secreted himself in the shadows of the trees ...finding a position where he could watch the entrance of the hall. He thought that perhaps he might have to wait...but within a few minutes...he saw Jenny and Lily emerge … arm in arm.

Henry watched them as laughing and talking they headed towards an older battered car. Opening a door that squawked in protest... they drew a large wicker bag from the backseat. Jenny hefted the bag to her shoulder and they started off...walking out of the light of the parking lot towards the dark highway.

Moving swiftly through the trees Henry flanked them...and he kept pace with them as they strolled at ease down the margin of the highway...He noted that Lily was walking on the gravel shoulder...but Jenny had removed her shoes and was walking on the asphalt itself...he heard her say to Lily..."The road is still warm...it feels really good on my feet"

Lily was not at all sympathetic..."I told you… you should wear your flats this morning..."

Jenny made a rather inarticulate sound. She thought to herself that she hated it when her younger sister was right.

Henry sank a little further back into the woods as the girls approached a single lamp post that cast a large circle of yellow light in the dark. It outlined an opening in the trees… the dark narrow entrance to a dirt road where it intersected the highway.

The circle of light ran across the tall grass at the highway's margins and part way up the trunks of the surrounding trees.

Jenny stopped and removed a pair of sandals from the bag. She sat down on the ground… in the middle of the circle of light and preceded with...knees akimbo to strap them on her bare feet…

Henry was charmed by this image… he craned his neck from his vantage point secreted among the trees. He inventoried the possible mediums in his mind...he thought perhaps charcoal or India ink washes...for their intense blacks....

The girls turned off onto the narrower track passing under the overshadowing branches. Lily flicked on a large flashlight and the beam illuminated the rutted track for a few feet in front of them.

A silence had fallen between them as they followed the track yet Henry could sense the quiet camaraderie that was intrinsic to siblings...its solidarity gave him a small pang of...was it jealousy?

Predictably within a few moments Lil' had moved closer to Jenny as she struggled along with the wicker bag.

Henry watched as Lil' bumped her shoulder against Jenny's and said in a most obnoxious and wheedling voice..."OK ...spill it!"

"Spill what?" Jenny asked in a patently...'_Why whatever do you mean?'_ tone.

"Come on Jen' " Lily persisted..."tell me whatever you know about that hunky guy at the dance tonight."

Henry's attention focused sharply...there was "hunky guy" that she was interested in? The predator so recently called to heel...roused again.

Henry could hear the increase in Jenny's heart beat...whether from excitement or from exertion he was not sure...but he was shocked to feel his own heart slowly accelerate.

He caught sight of a rare and enchanting white grin as Jenny spun round and flung the bag up against Lily's chest. Lily reached out instinctively to grasp it...dropping the flashlight in the process...it rolled in a half circle and came to a rest with the beam shining off the road and into the trees. Henry froze as the white light of the flashlight fell across his foot and shin.

"Your turn to carry it" Jenny said as she raised her arms… waggling them in an _'I am as free and a bird!'_ movement. Then she spun in a circle with her arms outstretched and swooped down to retrieve the flashlight.

Henry remained completely still.

"Jennnyyyyy...." Lily whined....

"All right ...all right" Jenny said...as they started on again towards the lake.

Jenny kept the beam of the flashlight aimed at the ground on the ruts in the path a few feet ahead...as she talked...

"Vera told me that William was out on the lake doing some night fishing...not last night but the night before...he was rowing by the Chadwick cottage ...Vera said around midnight..."

Henry was attending his footing… as the ground was becoming marshy this close to the shore... however his attention was fully captured when he heard the words "Chadwick cottage." His ego sparked…so he was the "hunky guy" and in the dark a brief cheeky smile graced his face.

He searched his mind...what exactly had he been doing two nights ago at about midnight...he hadn't fed that evening opting to stay in…. he had been sketching on a number of studies for a new landscape series...and he had worked on the painting...

"Anyways Mr. Nosey," Jenny paused at Lily's giggle, and then continued unperturbed… "He said that the cottage was lit up and that he could see…that young man…at work at a table drawing and painting at an easel in front of the window."

"William told Vera…that he was an 'ARTIST'"…said Jenny is a faux menacing tone that made the imagined quotation marks clear.

He described him as a 'strange young man with hair like a girl'…"

Henry was…affronted…he actually halted in his tracks. '…hairs like a girl?' he thought….

However he was forced to disregard his pique and focus on Jenny once more as she continued…

"Then of course when she said that, she got all strange and apologetic…really Lil', you would think that people would just get over it…"

The atmosphere between them was suddenly somber… and Lily's voice was sympathetic as she raised a hand to finger the short length of Jenny's hair. "It's just its hard when…well… when you hair grows back in it will be easier for them to forget…"

"Easier for them…" Jenny said under her breath…

Henry had closed the distance between them somewhat. He was processing what he was hearing…his attention tight focused on Jenny…when he stepped down between two tree roots into a shallow hole filled with water and mud. He soaked his foot to the calf.

"Damn" he muttered the oath…

Lily started…"Did you hear something?" she asked Jenny.

Though he didn't fall…Henry caught himself against the tree. He held his body completely still. He was off to one side of them perhaps twenty feet away and well within range of the flashlight's beam…Don't… he begged silently… don't…

Instead of scanning the trees with the flashlight, Jenny raised it up under her chin…casting grotesque shadows across her countenance and then said…"BOO... a little jumpy aren't you Lil'?"

"Funny…really funny Jen'" Lily replied …"so what else."

Henry relaxed but hung back at a greater distance as they began walking again…

"Ok…anyways…Vera said that his name is Henry Fitzroy, and that he has leased the cottage from the Chadwicks for two weeks…and that it's not the first time that he's done it." Jenny continued.

"Well how the hell…oh sorry…." Lily said as Jenny very loudly cleared her throat indicating her disapproval.

"How did Vera find that out, short of marching up to him and asking…which I am pretty sure she just might actually do?" Lily said.

Henry suddenly felt blessed that he had never had the chance to make Vera's acquaintance.

"Well you know her sister Rena?" At Lily's affirming nod, Jenny continued. "Rena works at the TD Bank in Windemere… she was there at the bank at the end of last month when William Chadwick came in to deposit a check from him. He said it was for someone renting his cottage for two weeks.

Rena noticed the handwriting, all looped and beautiful…you know really old fashioned. So she took note of his name…Henry Fitzroy. She said that he lives in Toronto … somewhere downtown…"

He was appalled. They knew his name…they knew his address…Sweet Jesu...they knew his bank account number! If it wasn't so alarming…it would be comedic.

"You mean he's been here before?" Lily said. "I don't remember ever seeing him."

"Vera said that she remembers him being at the Chadwicks at a cocktail party at least once before, but apparently he is very private. She said that he may have been up to the Northwood Restaurant at the Lodge with William and Ann Chadwick a couple of times…apparently he's quite eccentric…" Jenny said.

"You mean exciting… enticing… enthralling…"Lily enthused.

"I'm just repeating what Vera said"…Jenny countered. Henry didn't miss the slight increase in her heart rate.

"Didn't you think he was cute though Jen." Lily asked insinuatingly… Forgetting herself she teased…

"Maybe you could get him to draw you eh!...Yes… you could get him to "capture" you in oils…in an old fashioned gown…or even better …laid out on blue velvet in the nude…."

Lily's hand flew to her mouth and she made a distressed little mewling sound.

But Jenny only shook her head, sighed and said in a calm voice…"Forget it Lil'…you're as bad as Vera. Come on, I want to be in the water…."

They were on the opposite side of the dock leading out into the lake…not far from where he had first seen them. Henry standing amidst the trees … felt unsettled.

He wanted to approach her… it was difficult to deny the desire, and yet he couldn't at this moment think of a plausible excuse to be out wandering around in the forest at midnight… spying on them….

He hesitated… and then turning, headed back towards the Recreation Hall…

***

At one thirty in the morning…Jenny and Lily came straggling back towards the Hall. The dance long over, the stragglers had long since departed for their cottages or homes. The lot was almost deserted. They came laughing out of the dark and into the parking lot.

Lily was wrapped in a towel, holding it closed around her chest over her bathing suit…her bare shoulders pebbled with goose flesh and her hair wrapped turban style in a towel. Jenny was wearing an overly long white t-shirt that was wetly plastered to her torso…outlining he bathing suit beneath. Her hair was wet…slicked back close to her head…accentuating the planes of her face, in the light.

Both felt refreshed and cool as the moisture wicked off their flesh. They were both in bare feet and both were looking at the ground carefully picking… their way across the gravel at the entry to the parking lot…

"I swear, I so much prefer the lake when it's…" Jenny stopped in mid sentence as she saw the car parked a short distance from the lamppost illuminating the lot.

Henry Fitzroy sat perched on the trunk of his car, dejectedly looking at the keys in his hands….


	9. Chapter 9

Henry made his way back to the parking lot… I was close to midnight as he re-emerged from the trees and the dance had definitely wound down. The house lights were back on and shining through the windows of the Recreation Hall and the lot was rapidly emptying of cars. The remaining people were drifting off in couples or singly to their cottages and homes.

Henry moved his car from the far edge of the lot to a position not far from Jenny and Lily's vehicle…he waited seated in his car, watching the lot empty of cars for perhaps twenty minutes… finally there were three remaining cars, Jenny's, his own and one other.

It was a quarter of one…the night was still and the crickets had begun their chorus in the margins of the field. The vampire watched the Hall closely. Along with the single heart beat within… his ears could pick up a slightly discordant whistling.

The interior lights of the hall shut down in slow succession from one end of the building to the other… Henry got out of his car and propped the hood open…he reached inside of the engine and with a quick yank disconnected a hose and a group of wires at random.

He was leaning over the engine of his car when he registered the sound of the Hall door opening then closing…the scratch of a key in the lock and the soft click of the tumblers falling. He heard the foot falls approaching but he did not turn… choosing instead… to allow his prey to approach him of its own volition.

***

When Andrew turned around, after locking the door and carefully pocketing the key…he saw the car with the hood up and the man looking inside.

Well damn it…he thought to himself…why didn't he come inside before I got everything all shut down and locked up… maybe I can help him out without having to reopen?

Aloud he said in his slow drawl… "Car trouble…?"

Henry did not turn but said over his shoulder… "Yes it just won't turn over…" His hands appeared busy with the engine.

Andrew thought to himself…these young guys today…they don't know a thing about machines…why by the time I was in my twenties I could disassemble and re-assemble an engine no problem… but that was over twenty five years ago. Now he was the janitor at the Hall…

"Maybe I can give you a hand" he said as he drew closer.

Henry moved to one side making room…he still hovered over the engine… appearing to be absorbed in its intricacies. He could hear the slow relaxed rhythm of the man's heart and the air carried to him… the faint scents of cigarette smoke, pine cleaner and sweat.

"I would appreciate that…I 'm not too good with cars." Henry replied

Andrew came up to the vehicle and he stepped beside Henry and looked at the engine… "Well it's really too dark to see much of…" Andrew's voice trailed away as the young man turned to him with dark eyes…

***

Henry regarded his prey… a short fifty something man in a white t-shirt and work pants. A package of cigarettes was rolled into the sleeve of his T-shirt above one wiry arm. He was sandy haired and weathered…grey at the temples.

"Do not fear…" Henry told him… "I will not harm you."

Henry was not exactly sure why… he usually instructed his prey not to fear… After all, l once he had them in thrall…they had little chance of resisting him…yet often when he used the words he felt their heartbeats calm…as did this man's now.

Andrew closed his eyes at the young man's instruction…he did not see him take hold of his wrist or feel when he lifted his arm.

Henry brought the inside of the man's elbow to his mouth… he could feel the pulsing of the brachial artery beneath his lips. He tasted the salt of his skin as he sank his fangs quickly… just above where the artery branched into the forearm. He fed in quick draughts…he could hear the sound of his own throat working.

It was difficult to concentrate on anything over the flow of the blood…but experience had made him wary and the vampire forced himself to scan the surrounding area…nothing but the song of the crickets in the night and the whispering of the trees.

He felt the familiar spillover of his pleasure at his prey's compliant surrender.

He took only enough to dampen the hunger…but even at that… he heard the man's breath catch as he leaned his weight into Henry's side… momentarily driving his fangs deeper.

It was reckless, he knew, to stand under the light in the middle of a parking lot… feeding… he knew that…yet he also knew that anyone who happened to pass by would see only what they expected to see…two men trying to start a car.

Henry retracted his fangs and laved the bite…when he was sure there was no more bleeding… he lowered the man's arm so that his hand once again rested on the car. Henry drew the back his hand and then his tongue across his bottom lip …It wouldn't do for there to be evidence on his face.

"It's too bad that you couldn't help me…but I've decided to walk home…it's not too far… you can go home now." Henry told him… after making sure that no memory of his feeding would remain.

"Well I'm sorry I couldn't help you…but we can get a tow truck out here tomorrow." Andrew said, "And if you're sure you want to walk…well I best be getting home to my missus'…"

"Thank you, I'll be fine." Henry assured him smiling.

As Andrew climbed behind the wheel of his car…it occurred to him that he was feeling… a wee bit 'frisky'…he hoped that the 'little lady" was still awake when he got home.

Henry watched the tail lights of the man's car drive away. He felt better for having fed…more controlled and warmer…now all he needed to do was wait…he knew they would be back for their car eventually.

***

It wasn't long until Henry heard the thumping of two hearts and the muted laughing and conversation as the women were walking up the highway. He knew that he would be plainly visible to them from his position under the light. He had placed himself so on purpose… as he didn't wish to alarm them.

His other senses brought his all the information he needed… he kept his eyes lowered, feigning being unaware of their approach.

He stared morosely at the keys in his hands and hunched a little further forward in his seat on the car's trunk.

Then he heard her voice.

It trembled a little, as Jenny asked him… "Are you all right?"

Was she already frightened of him he thought? But when he looked up he saw that both she and Lily were shivering in their wet clothes… Jenny's teeth chattered slightly as she asked… "Is it car trouble?"

Lily had her wet towel clutched around her and she shivered violently, yet she had a lopsided grin plastered on her face.

Henry jumped down off the car… though he made no move to approach them. He ran a hand through his hair…and glancing back towards his car said…"Yes, it won't turn over."

He smiled and held out his hand… "Henry Fitzroy…I'm staying up at the Chadwick cottage" he said.

Jenny's slim hand felt icy in his grasp…flushed as he was by his recent feeding. He felt the fineness of her fingers and the coldness of her skin against his palm. The sense of their affinity flared bright in his mind with the skin to skin contact.

"Oh yes" she said "William and Ann's place has the loveliest view of the lake… I'm Jenny Phelps and this is my sister…Lily"

Henry regretfully released her hand, loath to break that small contact. He wanted to bring it to his lips, to kiss its icy back, to turn it over and lay his lips to the pulse at her wrist…

"Have you been at the lake long…? Henry…" Lily asked with a frankly curious look on her face.

Henry gave her a smile… "I was actually supposed to arrive here last Sunday but I didn't get in until Tuesday night so I've only been here for three days so far this trip. "I'm really glad that my car didn't die on the drive up from Toronto." "I have the cottage until a week tomorrow."

Jenny had moved to open the door of her car and lowered the wicker bag into the back seat.

"H-Henry…" she began. Henry's gaze was immediately drawn to her face as she uttered his name…

She pulled a dry towel out of the back seat and handed it to Lily and then another which she drew around her trembling shoulders. He noted that her lips appeared blue in the lamplight. He watched a single drop of water escaped from her wet hair and run down the length of her cheek.

"W-were you intending on sitting here all night?" she finished.

Henry replied… "I was just about to start walking…I need to get to a phone to call a tow truck."

Lily gave a short bark of a laugh which ended in a rather indelicate snort.

"Lil'!" Jenny said quickly and a gentle flush colored her cheeks.

Lily continued as though she had not heard… "Henry" she said…"this is Friday night… Bill Kearny is the only tow truck driver and he spends every Friday night down in Windemere at Dino's Bar and Grill… and he's not eating…if you know what I mean. You haven't got "a snowball's chance in … in summer of getting his tow truck out here until at least late afternoon tomorrow…and even then he's going to be in a really…really bad mood."

Henry could see that Jenny's face was quite red now and he found the blush that bloomed beneath her skin captivating.

Jenny quickly said, "Look… it's a very long walk up the Chadwick place from here, why don't you let us give you a lift."

Henry gave her a dazzling smile… "If it's not too far out of your way…"

A few moments later… Henry, Earl of Nottingham, Duke of Richmond and Somerset and 450 year old vampire… found himself bouncing along in the back seat of a battered car… as it pulled onto a northern Ontario highway.

He couldn't have been happier… Jenny was driving and from his vantage point he could watch the rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed. He could see her profile in the rearview mirror. He was bathed in the golden glow of her aura…and he was close enough to reach out and touch her.

Lily on the passenger side in the front turned in her seat to talk to him… and she plied him with questions…

"So what delayed your holiday…Henry?" She asked.

"I was hanging a small show in a gallery in North York, and the 'opening' was delayed for a few days so it put me behind" he responded.

"Oh! So you are an artist then? "Lily said…sounding a little more than suitably surprised.

Henry saw Jenny duck her chin slightly and her lips pursed in a small smile.

"Yes, mostly landscapes and…portraits" he said …with a slight emphasis on the word 'portraits'.

Jenny colored again and Henry thought of the pastel work… that was even now, staring out into his sanctuary.

"That's so interesting" Lily said "…Isn't that interesting Jen? You know we'd love to see some of your work sometime" she continued.

"You must both come by some evening"… he said "and have dinner…it's the least I can do to repay your kindness. Regretfully I haven't made the acquaintance of too many people here."

His attention was focused on the long column of Jenny's throat from behind her delicate ear to the round collar of the wet t-shirt she still wore. She sat facing straight ahead as she navigated the rise and fall of the dark highway. When Lily spoke again he tore his gaze away, turning his face to her.

"You know" said Lily… "Jen' and I are having a few people over tomorrow night for a little get together."

"We are?" Jenny asked casting a quick glance at Lily.

"Yes…don't you remember… silly?" Lily said shaking her head…" Saturday night…we are having a few friends on the deck for cocktails!"

"Wouldn't it be wonderful if Henry could come?"…she carried on enthused…"Everyone would so love to meet you and it would give you a chance to get to know a few more people…"

"I have a great deal of painting to do, Henry said, _wondering how he had gotten so far out on a limb …so quickly, he grasp at a rational_…so I need to keep at it, while the light lasts…but… I would like very much to attend after the sun goes down."

Henry leaned forward and crossed his arms along the back of the front seat. He rested his chin on his wrists. He tilted his head to one side and his face was very close to Jenny's shoulder. He wanted to draw in great breaths of her fragrance…her fragrance and the scent of the lake on her skin and hair but he contented himself with saying… close behind her ear…"That is if Jenny doesn't mind."

Jenny could feel him close …his presence behind her …she willed her body to relax…he wasn't Anthony…he wasn't Anthony… she told herself. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened and in spite of her silent assurances her heart began to race. She wouldn't let him…she thought…she wouldn't let…..

Henry felt her heart rate accelerate and he recognized the scent of fear… He sat back quickly…chastising himself…he wasn't usually so clumsy…what had he done to frighten her?

Then much to his surprise, Jenny said… "We'd love to have you…Lily is right…It'll be a lot of fun…please say that you'll come."

Confused…Henry responded… "It would be my honor."

They had pulled up to the arch in front of the driveway to his cottage. Jenny put the car in park and turned to face him. Her pale face no more than a few feet distant, her aura cast a golden glow around the interior of the car. The scent of fear had dissipated and she seemed almost determined as she said.

"We have the old Beacon place… it's about three miles to the east of here…just drive straight…you'll see a big white farm house on your left…take the first right and drive down to the water. It's old and small but it does have a really great deck out over the lake…"

Henry smiled and said…"Then I will be there as soon as I am able…thank you for inviting me… and for the lift." He got out of the car…and watched as Jenny backed out of the drive. Lily raised her hand in the passenger window as the car started off down the highway… he watched her disappear over a slight rise in the road.

As he walked through the tall grass to the cottage he tilted back his head to look up at the stars…they were as brilliant as ever in the heavens… The frogs at the water's edge had begun a throaty serenade of the moon.

He thought that it was slightly after two, he needed to make a call to Augustus…to arrange for the car to be cared for tomorrow… while he 'slumbered'. Once that was arranged… perhaps he would go down to the shallows, further along the shore…He wanted to think…and the lake was so peaceful….


	10. Chapter 10

The shrill whistle of the shift's end, filled the yard at the NickCo Mine.

It startled the black birds in the nearby trees and they lifted out of the branches in a tumbled group and flapped away over the top of a mountainous black slag heap.

The water lying in the deep tire ruts in the yard reflected wavering slivers of the yellow tinged sky and the floating clouds high above. They did not have the capacity to reflect the stench of sulfur that suffused the air.

When the wind blew from the west and ruffled the surface of the tailing pond… the air was filled with the smell of rotting eggs and coated the lining of the nose and throat.

***

He pulled the yellow hard hat from his head and rubbed with the wrist of his glove… at the itching of his sweat soaked scalp…it was so hot in the tunnels below.

He replaced his hard hat before the elevator reached the surface… those management bastards…would write him up for another safety violation…if they caught him without it.

It made him angry just to think about that pasty faced Safety Officer lecturing him…him!

His fists clenched at the memory of the indignity and the other miners accompanying him in the elevator moved surreptitiously as far distant as the close confines would allow.

His temper already had a reputation with the crews.

When the doors of the elevator slid open the crowd of the miners waiting to descend for the next shift stood back to allow them to exit…Get the fuck out of my way… he thought as he shouldered his way past…

He didn't turn with the rest of the crew to locker rooms and showers…but instead when directly to the time clock…ramming his card in with unnecessary force.

Then he was out the doors and into the mud of the yard…the stink of sulfur assailed him…it was fucking disgusting, the whole of Sudbury smelled like a cesspool when the wind was right he told himself.

He tore off one of his heavy work gloves and holding it under his arm he fished a cigarette from the pocket of his coveralls. He let it dangle loosely from his lower lip while he retrieved his lighter and drew heavily on the cigarette once it was lit.

If those shit head Safety inspectors knew he had a lighter …down below…there would be all hell to pay…. He smiled grimly to himself.

He flicked the ashed away as he crossed the yard pass by the chain link fence that marked the perimeter of the yard and out to the parking beyond.

He passed through the smoky cloud of his own exhalations as he walked… he drew on the cigarette and the tip glowed red as he pulled.

This was all her fault he thought…he wouldn't be stuck in this hell hole if it weren't for her.

When he reached his battered pick up, he yanked open the door and tossed his hardhat across to the passenger side… The cab of the truck was littered with garbage, fast food containers and empty beer bottles. He pulled off his other glove and tossed them both after the hardhat.

Stripping off his coveralls he revealed a dingy grey t-shirt. His work pants were splotched and greasy across the thighs from too much wearing and too many fast food meals in the cab of his truck. He removed his boots and stood barefoot on the pavement as he stepped out of the coveralls… then stepped back into the boots.

He wadded the coveralls, inside out, into a ball and pushed them behind the driver's seat…where he retrieved a six pack of beer. Using the opener hanging from his key chain he popped off the top and raised the brown glass neck to his lips. He didn't care that the frothy liquid was warm…if flowed smooth and bubbling down his throat. He tilted back his head and drained the bottle…tossing it across the seat.

Then climbing behind the wheel he turned over the engine and forced his way into the line of departing cars and trucks.

This is bullshit he thought in agitation .He hated waiting in line to clear the security gate. Why the fuck do they need to know who is on the property at all times?

He passed the straggling line of trees…that now screened the mine buildings proper from view.

They were a last rattling breath of nature's demise…in the moonscape of desolation that surrounded the mine. Scrub vegetation, withered and dead from the steam driven fumes of the refining processes lined the roadway.

It was all her fucking fault he thought sullenly. If she had just done what he told her…then he would still have his job as a hunting guide up in Windemere… he thought. They'd still be in their isolated cabin in the deep woods and he still be able to…

"What the fuck was wrong with these idiots?" he shouted aloud… though he was alone inside the cab …"can't they hurry up!" He butted his cigarette forcefully out in the overflowing ash tray. Feeling along the seat he pulled another from an open pack and lit up again. He drew on it blowing the smoke out the side of his mouth.

He was one car away from the gate now and it was all he could do not to lean on the horn.

His whiskered face was flushed with anger… his gut clenched impotently.

That whore… he thought…she couldn't keep that stupid mouth shut like he told her…all she needed to do was to keep quiet and no one would have been the wiser… he should have kept her locked up all the time.

He was at the window now and he held up his employee ID badge to the bored security officer in the booth…

"Name?"… The guard inquired without raising his eyes…as he regarded his list.

"Flores" he said with the cigarette dangling from one side of his mouth…"F-L-O-R-E-S…Anthony."

The guard made a check on his paperwork and then waved Anthony through.

He laid a trail of black on the asphalt as he gunned the truck away from the gate.

The guard in the booth only shook his head in disgust… "Name?" he inquired…

Anthony drove with reckless abandon down the highway… he was working on his third beer… and he was travelling easily twenty five miles an hour over the speed limit.

He came roaring up on a car and then got right behind their bumper… If they are not going to go fast enough he thought…then why the fuck can't they get out of my way.

He swerved to the right and left immediately behind them…. demanding that they pull off and let him by…the steady stream of traffic moving in the opposite direction prevented him from passing.

His chapped, work roughened hands, slammed down on the steering wheel, he was shouting…red in the face…his mouth twisted in an ugly snarl… "Get the fuck out of my way you stupid cock sucker…"

He leaned on the horn as the car in front edged over to the shoulder…he roared past…his wheels drifting as he barely held the truck on the road.

He looked in his review mirror… to be sure that he could see the driver's face when he raised his middle finger…"fucking shit head"…he mumbled.

He failed to note his own reflection as it appeared in that mirror… his eyes under his lowered brow cunning and feral ….lit with a malicious rage.

"Why can't people just do what I want?" he moaned to himself as he neared his rooming house.

That bitch…Jenny… Why couldn't she just keep her mouth shut like he told her…If she had just been a good wife…then he wouldn't have had to do all those things to try to teach her…

If she had just been a good wife… he wouldn't have had to beat her…

He shifted in his seat as his pants grew confining…he thought of her tear stained face…he thought of her voice begging him…begging… on her hands and knees in front of him. His hand dropped to his crotch… rubbing… coaxing.

He heard in his mind…her screams as he punished her…

"I'm only doing this to help you learn…sweetie"…he had whispered in her ear. "You want to be a good little bitch…don't you?" "You'll never leave me…He had promised her… I'll kill her… I'll kill everyone you care about …sweetie."

And only when he had been finally…aroused enough by his handiwork…then and only then would he take her, brutally sheathing himself inside her body…and grunting find his release. "Stupid bitch…"

He pulled up in front of the dilapidated rooming house in one of the roughest neighborhoods of Sudbury. It was her fault he was reduced to this…she was to blame.

He repeated to himself his familiar dark litany…he'd shave her fucking head bald next time…he'll break her ankles or chain her in a fucking closet or bury her alive… she won't get away again… not once he laid his hands on her. She was his.

He'd make her beg for it…just the way he liked.

He promised himself…she was bad…it was all her fault…he rubbed aimlessly at the raised round patches of scar tissue that dotted the surface of his arms and chest.

She needed to be punished for what she had done… for what they had done…someone had to pay…


	11. Chapter 11

Jenny picked the hanger off the rack and looked at the shirt carefully…she liked the floral pattern, it was very feminine with the pin tucks in front and the delicate lace trim…and she would be able to undo the top button…perhaps the top two… she thought she might take it.

She hoped it would fit…she couldn't face the change rooms…but it was her size so she thought it would be fine.

Lily watched Jenny from across the tiny dress shop…she was happy to have been able to get her in here at all…she was ecstatic that she was actually considering buying something.

Following several phone calls to their closest friends to issue invitations to a get together at their house tonight…. they'd had a whirlwind morning of shopping.

First to the Loblaw's grocery for snacks and supplies and then the LCBO* for the drinks…then Lily had suggested a stop at Dianne's Dress Shop…she was shocked when Jenny had agreed.

Lily was happier than she had been in the last many months...she was not as foolish or insensitive as she would have people believe...and she was well aware that she could see some subtle change in Jenny.

The haunted look in her eyes had faded...it was in residence still and yet it was now a less weighty presence. Something had thawed in Jenny and Lily knew where to lay the credit... Henry Fitzroy.

Too bad she thought...he was really very attractive...but her sister needed him far more than she.

Whatever it was that Jenny needed…Lily would find away to procure.

She could see Jenny's attraction to him, probably far more clearly than Jenny could see it herself.

It was as though the part of Jenny that had been so long missing had suddenly re-materialized in Henry Fitzroy's smile.

***

Jenny was thinking about him…she was puzzled by the way she felt when she looked at those blue eyes and that expressive mouth.

Anthony had taught her what men were…behind their smiles and false words…

Anthony had taught her that there were monsters lurking inside of men….

Maybe not all men she reminded herself but…

Anthony had taught her that she didn't know how to tell.

She believed what she had learned.

She had developed her own code of conduct…keep distant, don't show yourself, don't attract attention…then you will be able to keep yourself safe. She had her rules and so far they had protected her…

Yet all of her rules had tumbled away under the briefest contact of his gaze… there was something about him…something…

Why was it?…..Why… she thought did she feel this attraction to Henry Fitzroy…some pull in her soul that turned her… like the needle on a compass towards him.

She should be wary…there could be a monster lurking…she had been fooled before…believed before…and in believing had paid a terrible price.

Henry Fitzroy… She had only seen him briefly and spoken just a few words yet she felt a connection...some similarity of spirit...some shared knowledge…

She couldn't place a finger on exactly what it was... as though he held a part of her or her of him.

The one miracle that she did know was that she now held close to her heart...a spark...like that struck off of a flint into dry kindling in the moment before it caught or died...

That precious thing she held protectively cupped in her hands...and with the most careful of breaths she fanned it until it…feeding it… allowing for the possibility of a flame.

She felt something...she felt something for Henry Fitzroy...she felt something that Anthony had not been able to take from her.

Oh… she knew, that it was an attraction that she could only have from a distance… that she could not allow herself to become too close… Anthony had made sure that she would never be with another man…what man would ever want her when she revealed what he had done… No amount of floral print or lace trim could change that reality.

But she felt it…she felt it stir to life… for that gift alone…it might be worth the risk of pain…

***

Lil' said close by her, "Earth calling Jenny…Earth calling Jenny…"

Broken from her reverie Jenny smiled and held up the shirt in front of her with the hanger tucked beneath her chin she said, "What do you think?"

"I think that someone is interested in one Mr. Henry Fitzroy, Esquire…" said Lily…

Jenny's denial was cut short as the girl behind the counter asked…"Would you like to try that on?"

"No" Jenny responded…then she wrinkled her nose and showed the tip of her tongue to Lily…"But I am going to take it."

*****

*LCBO…Liquor Control Board of Ontario… (Government controlled alcohol sales…)


	12. Chapter 12

Henry's eyes opened…his ears registering the sound of his own first gasp at the return of life.

After a moment he rolled on his side on the bed. He drew the pillow down from where it had rested under his head…he wrapped his arms around it…holding it to his chest.

His eyes closed and he rested so for a moment…the scent he breathed in… was his own.

His eyes fell to the pocket watch that he had set carefully open on the floor beside his bed… he would wait forty minutes he thought… and his eyes roamed the confines of his sanctuary…forty minutes…surely by then it would be safe to leave…

Not quite forty minutes later he was at the panel behind the closet…He listened with his head canted to the side…but there was nothing other than the sounds of the evening settling on the woods to be heard.

He slid back the panel and pushing the clothing aside, stepped through into the bedroom.

Though his instincts roused and his muscles tightened in a flight response…he did not feel the warning flush of heat he had expected.

The drapes were pulled over the window and the bedroom was cloaked in shadow. The doorway through to the living room was brighter and he could see beyond it… through the living room windows where the faded red glow of his nemesis still painting the evening sky.

In spite of his impatience…he did not cross the living room's threshold until the color had faded from the horizon, contenting himself instead with gathering his clothing and preparing for the evening.

When he finally had emerged from the shower and was fully dressed in dark slacks and a soft light blue long sleeve shirt…he went directly to the kitchen.

His nose twitched in irritation at the residual scent of an unknown human male …it set him on edge this close to his sanctuary…even though he had been expecting it.

There was a bottle of Henry's favorite red wine sitting in the middle of the kitchen table on top of a sealed white envelope.

He opened the envelope and extracted a single sheet of heavy paper that bore a paragraph in Augustus' distinctive hand. He read it quickly to the accompaniment of the grumbling refrigerator...

"_Henry…We are sending one of our men with a tow truck …you will find your car repaired and in your driveway. Who is the young lady who requires such a romantic floral message? What was it… daisies on a bed of ferns*? You should find the bouquet in the refrigerator. I thought you were supposed to be painting… _

_A."_

Henry smiled…Augustus had a soft spot in his heart for him…Henry knew that. He was the sixth of that family that Henry had known since he had been in Canada. A charismatic young man, he was following in his father's footsteps… and Henry found him both attentive and effective…if just slightly too familiar.

He finger combed his damp curls then donned his suede jacket and retrieving the sizable bouquet in its cellophane wrapping from the refrigerator, he picked up the bottle of wine.

He thought that he would go on foot… he was impatient and if he was honest with himself a little nervous… on foot would be faster than driving he reasoned.

A human would have only seen a handsome young man standing in the darkened kitchen…who suddenly disappeared… the screen door slammed once and then again as it bounce closed behind him.

He slowed when he was about halfway down the winding driveway of the Beacon cottage…he could see the lights of the cottage and glimpsed the moonlit waters of the lake sparkling through the trees. He could also sense nine adult heartbeats and what he thought was a sleeping infant.

As he came close to the end of the drive, he passed three cars including Jenny's. He could see an older cottage, small and weather-beaten. It sat directly on the shore of the lake, mounted on pilings that ran down to the bedrock beneath. There was a large deck that extended out into the water and the lake lapped placidly around the footings. Off the deck there was a long dock…that ran out into the dark water. At present there appeared to be three small craft tied there.

The deck was strung with colored lanterns and Henry could hear the hum of comfortable conversation from where he stood…soft music was playing and the entire effect was one of laid back relaxation.

He could hear their hearts and feel their life force calling out to him… he did not need to feed…yet that number of humans in close proximity…definitely prompted the hunger.

He took a deep breath and had just decided to knock at the door…when he heard Jenny's voice say…

"I thought you were… standing there working up your courage…Henry please come in…we won't bite!"

She was standing holding the screen door ajar and beckoned to him with one hand… "Come on…"

Henry came quickly up the steps and stood for a moment, marveling at her golden glow… her eyes were dark blue and luminous in the dim yellow light of the cottage interior.

Jenny simply regarded him in silence for a moment…she didn't move aside to let him pass…she appeared to grow uncomfortable under his gaze, alarming him...finally she cleared her throat and said with a nod… 'Are those for me?"

Henry held out the flowers to her…"Yes"…was all he said…He cursed his sudden ineptitude...seemingly all of the witty repartee of the court…the suave comments and the silky seduction he had learned over more than four centuries…had just flown away.

Jenny smiled…and took mercy on him…she took the flowers from him and laid them on a small table just inside the door. She took the wine bottle and held it in the crook of her arm and then…blessedly…she slid her warm fingers into his cool hand…and drew him into the house.

She pulled him along through the warmly lit interior of the cottage…through a small brightly lit kitchen… (It was all Henry could do not to throw his free arm up in front of his sensitive eyes.) And then out into the night again… onto the deck…Henry registered the generalities of the house as they passed but… the majority of his focus was at the point where her hand met his.

As Henry stepped through the doorway onto the deck… a large man slammed a beer bottle down on a table top. "Filthy… fucking… blood-sucker" he roared as he lumbered to his feet.

Henry pulled back against Jenny's hand and nearly went to a defensive crouch… It was only the long years of the masquerade that permitted him to keep his appearance human under threat.

Jenny's head swiveled to the man…her voice heavy with disapproval… "James Audrey Phelps… you will not use that kind of language in my house…"

"Sorry Jenny… I thought mosquito season was over…but that must have been a monster that just got me" rubbing at the back of his neck he continued… "The _little bastard_ bit me right on the neck"

Henry bit his own cheek…in a desperate effort to keep the maniacal laughter that threatened to overflow… bottled up in his chest. The combination of adrenalin and nerves was intoxicating and debilitating.

_If you only knew _he thought…_exactly how apt that description really was_…

Jenny led him out into the center of the deck…she could see by the way he moved that he was tense and his hand where she held it was cool, his features though composed seemed rather pale. She thought he must feel anxious about meeting so many strangers. She understood feeling cautious and over exposed.

She stood on her toes next to him....

"I'll be quick on the introductions, then it will be all over… and you can relax"… she whispered. Close to his ear.

Henry heard her words and felt the sweetness of her breath across his face…the warmth of her body where she leaned against him.

He understood that she was trying to spare him something… something that she had often feared herself.

He somehow drew his attention back to the people that she indicated seated or standing in various places around the deck.

James Audrey Phelps (_recently bitten on the neck_)…AKA, Jimmy …was Jenny's cousin…

The redoubtable Vera was there… with her intrepid fisherman husband William…

Another couple Ian and Valerie and their infant daughter Ruby, whose round cheeks and rosebud lips were peacefully suckling her own thumb as she slept in a carrier covered with netting…

He was introduced to Rena…apparently the same, who was so enamored with his handwriting and finally another young woman, tanned and with the grace of an athlete… Sally, who was introduced as Lily's best friend…

He smiled and extended his hand to each in turn and with the slightest bow at the waist and said…"Henry Fitzroy," at each introduction.

He heard Vera say to Rena…"such old fashioned manners…you just don't see that anymore"

He was grateful that Jenny stayed close by him as he endured the usual questions. She seemed to have a unique ability to fend off the voiced misconceptions as well as insensitive comments about the "artistic lifestyle."

He smiled and joked as was appropriate… and he had to admit that these people seemed to be making a genuine effort to include him inside of their group.

If the set of his shoulders was a little too stiff or if he seemed to look to Jenny somewhat too frequently…well no one made any comment.

***

Lily watched Jenny as she stood next to Henry… and she felt some of the hard frozen worry begin to thaw inside her…she had not seen Jenny stand close to… much less touch… any man other than family, since… well since Anthony.

Poor Henry… she thought…he looked as though he thought that Vera might eat him alive…_he actually might not be too far off on that one_… and he kept looking to Jenny…who seemed to be keeping a close guard on his back.

Lily crossed the deck towards them with a glass of red wine in one hand… she placed her other hand on Jenny's shoulder and answered Jenny's smile with one of her own.

"You look like you could use this"…she said to Henry.

She handed him the glass… as he brought the glass to his nose unconsciously testing its bouquet…

She asked him a sugary sweet voice… "Don't you just love this old place, Henry?"

Henry had taken a small sip of the deep red liquid and swallowed quickly before responding… "It's charming…and so close to the water, it seems very comfortable… I would imagine cozy in the winter."

Lily didn't miss how his gaze wandered to Jenny and then back to her own face. She knew she was not misreading the entreaty there?

"Oh yes… and the setting is beautiful… the property has a lot of good views that I…um…I am sure you would enjoy…" she continued.

She was rewarded by a warm glint in his eye…and she knew that he sensed her permission and complicity.

"Yes well… um… taking in various views is always helpful to the landscape artist"…he played into her hand… one eyebrow raised.

Jenny looked back and forth between them…sensing the underlying thread…

Finally Lily had had enough… "Jen… Are you going to show Henry around or not?" she cried.

Jenny looked up into Henry's laughing eyes… "Would you like the grand tour?" she asked…holding out her hand.

As he took her hand in his he said simply…"Yes… yes I would."

Jenny first led him back into the house…and into the living room. It was small but comfortably furnished and boasted a stone fireplace and hearth that was blackened with soot. The wood basket was filled even at this time of year…when Jenny saw the direction of his gaze she said… "that and the potbellied stove in the bedroom were the only forms of heat in winter until they got the hydro in here about ten years ago…must seem pretty primitive to you"

Henry only nodded…there was nothing else he could say…

The wall opposite of the fireplace was covered in framed photographs; Jenny released his hand as he moved to inspect them.

They showed scenes from childhoods long past in the sepia tones of more distant times… bent and discolored… but lovingly displayed.

One showed two smiling parents with little girls in Sunday school best, on their arms…captured in shades of grey and black…

Another had captured the frozen image of adolescent sisters on twin bicycles…the town of Windemere in the background.

Henry lifted his hand to run a fingertip along the edge of a brown wooden frame from which Jenny and Lily… each displaying a dripping Popsicle ...looked, laughing, out into the room…they were arm in arm…Lily was turned slightly towards Jenny… her ponytail sweeping out of the picture. Jenny stared forward from under straight bags that hung over her brow and long dark silken hair that curtained over her shoulders.

Jenny stood completely stilled at his side and then he heard her sigh…he did not turn to look at her but waited… his eyes on the photo. She stepped close beside him and touched her finger to the picture…

"That was… before." she whispered.

He turned his face to her then…but she only smiled…Henry thought that in all his long years he had never seen a smile so full of pain…or such strength.

She glanced down and then collecting herself… ruffled both hands through her short hair until it stood on end. Henry fought the urge to raise his hand to touch it…

Her aura brightened…"Do you want to go for a walk?" she asked.

Henry offered his arm…Jenny stood a moment hesitating… he smiled a gentle encouragement …She looped her arm through his. She called over her shoulder to Lily as Henry held open the screen door…

"We'll be back in a bit Lil'"…

***

*The daisy symbolizes …Innocence, loyal love… "_I'll never tell_" and purity The Fern…it's symbolic of magic, fascination, confidence and shelter.


	13. Chapter 13

The night was disturbed so close to the cottage…replete with lights and sounds and scents…mingled heartbeats and muted conversations. The air was full of the scents of the lake of the trees and the humans nearby.

Henry made no attempt to hold on to Jenny's arm and as they reached the bottom of the cottage steps… she released her grip. He could sense her trepidation…not fear…not exactly but a very near neighbor.

He waited…it was all he knew to do…he knew instinctively she must move at her own pace.

He waited thinking that perhaps that her courage faltered… he watched as she licked her lips…he smiled the gentles of challenges…

***

Jenny got to the bottom step of the cottage…she could feel his strong body close beside her, felt him shift his weight and stance to accommodate her movement…_she was too close_... She withdrew her hand from his arm, and then immediately felt bereft of the contact…

He neither tried to hold her nor withdrew…he only waited. When he turned his face to her, his eyes were patient, the slightest of smiles played about the corners of his mouth, the mildest of dares...

She licked her lips…trying to gather her courage. What had seemed possible while in the security of her family and friends now seemed difficult and dangerous… but she wanted to see that smile.

She saw again the slight lift of the chin as though he were testing the air…

***

"Which way would you like to go?" his voice was pitched soft; rich… there was the slightest foreignness to its timbre.

Jenny gestured up the driveway… "Let's walk this way" … but she didn't move… "Maybe I should get a flashlight" Jenny said…

Henry knew somewhere inside of himself that if she returned to the house now…some opportunity would be lost…he could sense her struggles… she was poised to flee…

"No need"… he finally said. "My night vision is good, and once we are a little away from the cottage our eyes will adjust." He gestured with his hand and her eyes were drawn skyward. The moon is almost full tonight and she will cast all the light we need.

Jenny looked at his profile as he gazed up at the moon his head tilted back and his hands relaxed at his sides. He seemed as though he were somehow in his own element now as though he were at home with the night and the forest…Limed in the moonlight she thought he looked …timeless.

He swung one arm outward in a broad gesture towards the driveway and indicated that she should precede him. With a graceful lowing of his chin, the corners of his eyes crinkling he asked…"Shall we?"

She forced one foot in front of the other… and began to walk up the driveway. He moved with an easy grace as he fell in beside her, matching his pace to hers. He put his hands into the pockets of his jacket as they walked his face looking down to the driveway at their feet.

He seemed completely relaxed…completely at ease now that they were away from the others… She felt the knot that had formed between her shoulders relax slightly.

"You don't like meeting new people do you."…she ventured?

Henry smiled but did not look her way…he kept his eyes on the ground. Shaking his head slightly…he said, "It's not my favorite thing…no. I really have a tendency to keep to myself most of the time. Part of it is a certain… diffidence on my part and then the schedule that I keep prevents me from socializing a great deal."

He could not say why… but he found himself continuing, "Very early in my life, I was often thrust into the public eye…not always to my advantage…so I am cautious now."

"Well…I thought you did very well"…she said stoutly.

"Just meeting Vera and William alone would be enough to put most people off."

"Yes well…as long as I had you to defend me…I felt fairly safe" he turned his face to hers with a smile.

There was a silence for a moment and all that could be heard were their footfalls on the lane…the trees crowded close on every side.

Henry could sense that she was relaxing slightly…

"Where you born in Toronto" she asked… it seemed to help her to hear him speak about himself…

His mobile face lifted in what she thought was a rather sad smile…

"No" he responded…"I was born in a small village called Blackmore, in Essex… but I have lived in Canada for many years now."

"And your parents" she asked.

"My parents are dead…they have been for a very long time. My mother's name was Elizabeth and my father's name was…Henry. I have no other close living relations." He said this in a matter of fact tone that to Jenny's ear sounded a trifle brittle.

She volunteered, "My parents are dead as well…for almost 5 years now…it's just Lily and me and a cousin here or there"

Henry just nodded his head and continued walking…as she spoke again.

"I-I was married briefly …one of those foolish marry your first love, relationships…It-it didn't work out… but I'm divorced now.

"The loss of a first love can be traumatic" Henry said in a neutral voice. The image of his sire, Christina flashed before him, dark eyed and enticing… "I can speak from experience"…he said.

Jenny stumbled slightly and Henry put out an arm to steady her…grasping her hand… she did not pull away and after a moment she seemed to draw strength from the night around her and her fingers tightened in his.

"I loved him"…she said suddenly, in a tone that sounded like she was admitting to murder…

"I loved him, but he never loved me…he never loved me…he just pretended…he pretended and I believed him…"

Henry heard her breath catch in her throat as her voice suddenly halted. He turned expecting to see the glitter of tears … but her eyes were dry…and looking into some distant place. She chewed her lower lip slightly as though she were trying to puzzle something out.

Finally when she spoke again her voice was flat, as though she had secreted her emotions away…

"He never loved me, he just pretended to so that I would love him, so that I would trust him. And then he betrayed that trust…he hurt me…he used me. I was so foolish …so blind and so weak…"

She fell silent shaking her head. Henry squeezed her hand carefully… in mute support.

They had almost reached the highway…when Henry who was lost in his own thoughts finally spoke…

What he said surprised him. "My first real love …Christina…was older than I by several years… my family was wealthy and powerful in their own way and when Christina…came into my life…they very much disapproved and tried to separate us. She told me that she loved me…and I believed her…I trusted her. She was beautiful…I –I certainly loved her…with all the blind passion of a seventeen year old. In the end she betrayed that love and trust, though I may not have viewed in that way at the time. She manipulated me using my love for her… I was so foolish…" his voice trailed off.

His expression was grim, whether with the memory of betrayal or in self recrimination…Jenny could not be sure.

Henry was surprised at his admission; he had not spoken of Christina to any one for many years and usually avoided any thought of his sire, whenever possible. Now here he was describing his first heartbreak to Jenny as a reflection of her own.

They now stood at the top of the driveway. The dark highway stretched away from them in both directions…undulating away into the distance under the moonlight. There was the open meadow of a farmer's field across the highway's width and in the distance the yellow lights of the farmhouse windows were visible.

Jenny released his hand and walked to the old wooden gate that stood open, pushed up against the brush at the side of the drive. She clambered up and seated herself on the top slat. The gate swayed slightly with the rasp of rusted hinges. Henry moved to lean an arm against the post beside her.

Jenny was surprised as she realized that she felt relaxed and comfortable…even though she was alone in his company and he was for all intensive purposes leaning over her in the dark. His face had smoothed again and was a calm pale oval…his eyes seemed dark in the glow of the moon.

"A-Anthony was older than me…and when I met him he was so charming and caring… he fooled me and I fell in love. He wanted me to marry him and move away from here to his cabin out in the woods. He said that he loved me…that he wanted me all to his self. Even from the very start he always knew how to get me to do what he wanted."

"And then later…when he had me alone…when I had left everything behind me for him…then h-he…

She stopped short and Henry could see her slim knuckles tighten on the rail of the gate… Her face crumpled, her small chin quivered and Henry felt sure that now the tears would come…

He didn't need his vampiric powers to understand the depth of her pain at the betrayal… he knew it too well…as it had tortured his own heart for centuries.

He moved in close to her and raised his hand to her cheek. As she looked up to his face he could see the tears shining in her eyes, but they did not fall…they did not fall.

His hand travelled downward and his thumb rested on her chin while his fingers circled one side of her throat…the knuckle of the smallest resting on her collar bone…slightly inside of the collar of her floral blouse. She trembled under his touch…

Henry drew in her scent …looking for clues as to what she need, what she wanted…she was not afraid, but Henry could feel it as she gathered herself, he felt her gather her control. He flattened his hand so that his fingers now rested across her clavicle, under the material of her shirt. He could feel the pulse at her throat as it beat frantically against the side of his thumb.

His heart yearned towards her…he wanted to give her his strength…and he bent further as he brought his lips to hers…

Her lips parted as his brushed hers…and she said in a voice that tore at his heart,

"Don't…Don't be kind…I can't do this…if you are kind you will rob me of my strength… and now…for right now I need to be strong…please don't…"

Henry withdrew…the most he could do right now was to allow her that brittle control…he knew well that control was sometimes the only thing you had.

He turned half away from her and leaned his back against the post, the smallest part of him hurt by her rejection. He stared off down the highway…watching the lights of an approaching truck as it rose and fell along the roads contours.

Henry felt her hand on his shoulder…and he turned again towards her.

"What Anthony did to me, it was terrible, he was a monster, he made me… He left scars, scars that no one knows about…that I can't show any one…he left his ugly mark on me…changed me…"

Her eyes begged for understanding…and his heart contracted painfully in his chest. To be hurt, to be changed at the hands of another, to have their mark indelible on your body…all these things he understood at his core.

The drive was washed with the headlights of the battered pickup truck as it roared past. It washed over them illuminating Henry's face as he told her, willing her to believe… "You are beautiful, beautiful as you are!"

She touched the side of his face and said in a low voice "As are you…"

Sliding down from the gate she held out her hand to him… "Let's go back to the cottage, I'm freezing sitting out here, and I am sure Lily is wondering where we are."

The mood broken, Henry pulled off his jacket and hung it around her shoulders.

Jenny held his jacket drawn around her…she had been surprised at how cool the silken lining had felt as he first settled it over her shoulders…but she now she felt it warming to her body heat.

"Thank you" she said as she took his hand…he simply inclined his head towards her.

As they turned and started back down the driveway…Henry said "I don't suppose I could convince you to sit for a portrait…"

Jenny laughed quietly…"Well we can see…its funny Lily was saying something about that…"

***

Further down the road…the pickup truck turned into the farmhouse driveway, reversed and then backed out on to the highway and started back the way it had come.

It slowed as it passed the dark and empty mouth of the driveway of the Beacon cottage…only the trees were witness to the voice that drifted on the breeze. "It's all her fault…she is to blame…if she would just have…"


	14. Chapter 14

The water was cool and dark as it lapped around their feet… Henry watched as Jenny's blurred golden reflection wavered and swayed on the dark moving surface. The silver of the moon on the lake and the gold of her aura…filled his perceptions.

They sat at the end of the dock…side by side… silent.

Earlier when they had returned to the cottage, there had been more conversation among the guests and a few arched looks from Lily.

There were a number of different food choices laid out on the table and Vera had pressed him unmercifully to "try her prize winning custard pie." It had apparently won the blue ribbon at the Gravenhurst Fair last year…or so he heard from several people.

He narrowly escaped by claiming severe food allergies which meant he had a restricted diet. Vera was only somewhat mollified by his repeated assertions that the pie in question "certainly looked delicious."

The baby, Ruby, had awakened and had begun to wail…refusing the solace of her pacifier and in the end would only be satisfied by the bottle.

Henry could not for the life of him understand why mothers today eschewed the breast for the bottle…it seemed so, unnatural and artificial to his mind.

Henry observed with amusement the hustle and bustle of Jenny and Lily heating the bottle in a pan of water on the stove, the rubber nipples and the plastic lids…was it too hot or was it too cold?

He watched as Lily pulled back her sleeve in order to test the temperature against her wrist. He saw the arch of the warm formula from the nipple…dribbling onto the upturned flesh…coating the faint pattern of blue veins that ran down to disappear beneath her palm. Henry's eyes held there and he felt the stirrings of an appetite that could not be satisfied by a prize winning pie.

Valerie jostled Ruby on her knee…the infant's wails took on a tone of desperation…to which Henry could completely relate… and he was relieved when the baby's lips finally closed around the nipple.

He watched the concentrated effort on her tiny brow, those round rosy cheeks, the movement of her jaw and throat as she suckled with the intensity of an instinct held in common by human and vampire alike.

"Do you like children?" Jenny asked as she settled in the chair next to him.

"I have very little experience with them" he said. He nodded towards Ruby, who had by this time efficiently drained the majority of her bottle. "This one however, seems to be a child after my own heart."

"Would you like to hold her?" Valerie asked. She had thought that he would refuse, as most men did, and was surprised when his face lit up with a smile and he said "Yes, if you will allow it."

Henry seldom had the opportunity to interact with children and almost never with infants. Their life force was so pure, so potent and it could be appreciated without rousing the hunger.

There followed a brief re-arrangement, and Jenny laid a towel over his shoulder… "Just in case of an accident" she said.

"Hold her upright against your chest with her head on your shoulder," Valerie instructed as she placed Ruby in Henry's outstretched arms.

"She is going to need to burp" he heard Valerie say, as his arms closed around the tiny being. "So just pat her back… yes, like that"

Henry felt the coiled, focused life inside the small weight against his chest. His hand patted out a gentle hollow rhythm against the little flat back. The babe turned her head to Henry's neck nuzzling past the collar of his shirt. He could hear the tiny heart beating swift and steady… her scent…her scent was so innocent, so pure.

Valerie watched with an indulgent smile on her face... she had no idea... that she had handed her babe to one of the world's most fearsome predators, or that her maternal instincts had been correct, and that her babe was completely safe in his arms.

Henry closed his eyes and lowered his face to the downy top of Ruby's head and breathed in that scent…the scent of new life.

She drew up her knees against his chest with a mewling little cry and Henry could sense her discomfort. He set her higher on his shoulder and rubbed her back in an effort to soothe her. With a loud burp she lost a portion of her recent meal on the towel covering Henry's back.

"Oh my god...I'm so sorry" Valerie said and then burst out laughing at the horrified look on Jenny's face.

Henry just shook his head and continued patting as Valerie wiped at the baby's mouth and then at the spit up on the towel.

He crooned to Ruby... "That's better, you just took a little too much… that's all. You just need to learn some control."

The baby lifted her head awkwardly and brought it down directly under Henry's jaw...she began to squirm and root with her lips against his throat. Henry drew in a deep breath and said to Valerie, "I believe that she still hungers."

"You have the touch, you'll make a good Daddy someday," Valerie said as she reached to take Ruby back into her arms.

The smile on Henry's face faded and as the baby left his arms, he steered the conversation to another topic.

The guests began to depart soon after. Vera and William as well as Cousin Jimmy in their boats, disappeared into the dark across the lake. The others eventually pulled out the long driveway in a group of disappearing red tail lights. They were watched from the screened door with raised hands echoing their "goodbyes."

Lily went to the kitchen and as Jenny started to follow she said over her shoulder "I can handle this out here...why don't you and Henry take it easy out on the deck". Lily 'would not take no for an answer' so a few minutes later Henry found himself seated beside Jenny at the end of the pier, their bare feet dangling in the water.

A silence had fallen between them and Henry could sense her weariness. The gold of her aura rippled close over her skin. She stared out across the lake pensive as she swirled her toes through the surface.

He could feel his hunger rousing. It took less effort to control now that there were only Jenny and Lily in proximity. He thought to himself that he should have taken more from the handyman yesterday evening at the Hall. He should have satisfied himself instead of just dampening the hunger.

He would need to feed tonight or he would be seriously hungry tomorrow evening... and he wanted to see Jenny again then.

"Have you given any thought to sitting for me"... he asked "I would very much like to paint your portrait."

Jenny swirled her toes through the water..."I've never done anything like that before "she said...she turned her face towards him..." What I would need to do? Is it difficult?

"No, not too difficult...you would need to sit still for a period of time, in different poses...while I made some sketches. The hardest part is holding still in a pose, but we could take a lot of breaks...he smiled saucily and gently bumped his shoulder into hers." Jenny blushed prettily and looked away.

"Once the sketches were complete and I was satisfied with the composition then you would need to sit for the painting..." he said his eyes on her profile as he began to visualize the ways that he would capture her delicate features.

He wanted to bring her close to him, to his own peril he wanted her to know him and he wanted to know her. Something in her presence made him feel... attached somehow.

Henry watched her look down to the water's rippled surface ... a slight frown marred her face and she asked in a troubled voice..."what would I need to wear?"

"For the sketches anything you wish...at first," he fingered the soft floral print of her shirt at the collar, "This would be good. Later we can decide on the costuming for the portrait, usually something that supports the mood or meaning of the piece."

She hunched her shoulders up and tilted her head to one side running a hand through that short spiky hair, as she looked to the lake. Henry knew that she was trying to decide.

Once again he could see her gather her strength, watching as her aura glowed brighter, expanding with the determination she pulled to herself.

He lifted his hand to her face and looked into her eyes saying. "Will you do this for me... please?"

He saw her aura blossom as she decided. "All right... we can try." she said exhaling "but you may be sorry that you asked."

Henry leaned back on his arms, his feet pale in the water, tilting his head back he smiled up to the heavens "Never." he said.

"I have tomorrow off" Jenny said. "It's Sunday, so the Hall will be closed...we could start then.

Having so recently obtained what he wanted, he found himself abruptly in the position of having to refuse it. He didn't want to lie to her yet he was suddenly left without a reason why he couldn't see her tomorrow during the day.

He would not use his powers of persuasion on her, they were a tool to be used on his prey and Jenny had at some point become something else.

"I have a meeting with the owner of a gallery in Gravenhurst tomorrow. He is coming here to review some sketches and then we will be meeting with another potential client for dinner." he said with a frown.

It wasn't precisely a lie, except for the dating and the implication that it was planned to take place during the day. He did have an appointment for an evening meeting later in the week.

"I should be back at around ten tomorrow evening." He turned towards her taking her hand in his and gave her, what he thought of as, one of his most endearing smiles..."Will that be too late?" he asked.

"Turn off the '_charm'_ Henry, she said laughing..."I'll come by your place at ten tomorrow night".

Henry could feel his hunger begin to press in challenge against his control and he climbed to his feet retrieving his shoes. "I should be going, it is becoming very late." he said as he drew Jenny to her feet.

She followed him back along the dock and into the house, to the door of the living room.

In the soft light Lily was seated on the sofa reading a book. There was a large porcelain pitcher on the coffee table full of the fern fronds and daisies of Henry's bouquet.

She looked up at them as they entered and said."Good night Henry"

Henry nodded in her direction, "Lily."

Jenny followed him down the first two steps and then stood with her arms hugged round her torso.

"Where is your car?" she asked.

"I walked here tonight." Henry replied.

"That's a long way" Jenny said..." I could drive..."

Henry shook his head no... "I love to walk at night" he said smiling. "And I have a painting to plan." He came back and stood before her looking up into her face. He held himself still, waiting. His patience was rewarded when she bent and brushed a brief kiss across his cheek.

"Good night Henry" she said.

"Good night Jenny" he said as he turned and started up the drive way.

When he glanced back at the first turn of the driveway, he could see her golden form standing watching him from behind the screened door of the cottage.

When Henry made the mouth of the driveway he looked both directions down the highway. It was after three. He looked towards the farmhouse. All the lights were out except for the lone light mounted on a post in the center of the distance between the house and the small barn.

He did not usually allow himself to feed repeatedly so close to his sanctuary just as a matter of form.

He stood for a moment considering…he knew that the farmer would rise early for the milking so he would only need to wait in the comfort of the barn. He would still have enough time to return to his sanctuary safely.

Having decided Henry made his way to the farm… there was a brief encounter with the barn yard dog, however it was soon managed. True to pack law, the dog submitted to the Alpha predator and padded along behind Henry silently, tongue lolling and with his brush of a tail twitching from side to side in the air.

Henry swung the sliding door of the barn back only wide enough to admit his slim body. He bent and "suggested" to the dog that he might want to be elsewhere.

Pulling the door closed again behind him he was greeted by the sight and sounds of a small herd of about a dozen cows. They were roused and lowing softly; they could sense the predator close at hand but after a few moments, when no attack occurred, they settled again.

Henry made his way to the deep shadows, behind some hay bales and found a comfortable position in which to wait. The warm dark comfort of the barn, the scent of the hay and sounds of the animals close at hand carried Henry back into the remembrances of other evenings he had spent in pastoral settings, in farmer's haylofts, sometimes in the charming company of the farmer's daughter… a smile turned up one corner of his mouth.

It was slightly after four when he was drawn from his memories by the sounds of the humans rousing in the farm house. Within a few minutes he heard the approach of booted feet across the yard and a gruff voice said "Get down Jack…you crazy dog… why the hell are you jumping all over me this morning?" There followed a low whine from the dog and then the door of the barn slid noisily back along its rails as the farmer hefted it open. He felt for a switch at the door and the barn was marginally brightened by a string of bare bulbs suspended down its center. Deep shadow remained in the roof and corners of the barn.

The cows lowed more loudly, huffing and blowing in recognition of the familiar routine, jostling each other in the close confines of the barn. The farmer, a spare man in his forties, clad in a long-john shirt, work pants with suspenders hanging down to his knees and black rubber boots, made some soothing sounds in answer to the cows' distress.

The cows responded to the farmer's murmuring, quieting and turned their docile eyes towards him. He retrieved a stool and a pail from the shelves to one side of the door.

As he moved to place them beside the stanchion while the dog circled his legs barking. "Shut up, you damn dog, you'll spook the cows." He snapped.

He turned to the cow nearest and patted her back several times then ran one hand down the cow's flank. "Come on Ana Mae" he said in a gruff voice, "the sooner the milking is done the sooner I can get in for my breakfast."

He took hold of the halter and led the cow to the old wooden stanchion, urging her to place her head between the uprights and then he came around in front to secure the device with the ease of long practice.

He started to turn to get the feed bucket when the cow jerked back in the stanchion and emitted a plaintive sound. Turning back the farmer inquired "What is it old girl, does something have you spooked?

Henry could see his reflection in the liquid brown surface of the cow's eyes as his face appeared behind the farmer's shoulder. He uttered two words, full of the command of his will, "Be still."

***

_Damn dog,_ Owen thought to himself, _he's crazy this morning._

The door of the barn resisted and he had to put his back into it in order to get it to move on the tracks. He wedged his hip against the frame and pushed and was rewarded by the dry rattle of the tracks as the door edged open.

He took the stool and bucket and carried them to the old wooden stanchion. Jack ran figure eights around his legs and began to bark.

"Shut up, you damn dog," Owen snapped, "you'll spook the cows."

Owen led Ana Mae to the stanchion first and she slipped her head through easily…_she's a good old girl_ he thought.

He had turned away to retrieve the feed bucket when Ana Mae lowed plaintively and pulled back against the stanchion. Turning back he asked her…"What is it old girl, something has you spooked?

He could see himself reflected in Ana Mae's dark eyes and then saw the pale oval of a face appear behind his reflection. An irresistible command seized his mind…"Be still."

***

Henry turned the man and pushed him slightly back so that his shoulder leaned against the uprights of the station. The farmer's eyes were wide and frightened. Moving aside the collar of the farmer's shirt, Henry's sensitive fingers tracked the path of the carotid artery and here it branched away under the flesh exposed there. He bent his head forward angling in for the best position and eyes black, lifted his lips as his fangs elongated.

With his fingers gripping the man's biceps he reminded the farmer again, whispering "Be still, I will not harm you." and then quickly set his fangs.

***

Owen felt strong arms swing his body around and he could feel the upright of the stanchion solid behind him, as his right shoulder was pushed against it. His body would not obey him, he wanted to flee. His heart beat wildly in his chest as he looked into two impassive dark eyes, the night given life…then the dark gaze slipped past him to his throat. Owens eyes widened as that face, both beautiful and terrible swung downwards…

"Be still, I will not harm you." Owen heard the words and all resistance and fear fled. He felt a swift sharp pain and then a heady sense of contentment flooded his senses.

***

He leaned his weight against the farmer and drank quickly and greedily. Henry closed his eyes as the familiar pleasure of the blood escalated. The farmer shifted against the upright with a long exhalation of pleasure. Henry's grip tightened to hold him in place.

The cows in the barn lowed and stamped restlessly at the scent of blood. The farmyard dog, tongue lolling and the brush of his tail sweeping the hard packed earth of the floor, waited patiently in attendance on his master.

_Just a moment more...just a moment more..._he thought as he felt the blood begin to work in him. He could feel the reverberations of the man's heart in his own chest where he was pressed against the farmer.

Once the hunger was satiated, he withdrew his fangs and thoroughly laved his bite. Henry licked his lips and then he whispered in the man's ear, "You are thirsty, and hungry. Once you are done with the milking, you will need to eat and drink."

He left the farmer standing and retrieved the stool and pail. He manipulated the man to a seat on the stool and placed the pail to one side.

"You will remember nothing of me" he instructed, watching as the man's head bobbed in agreement.

Henry released him. At the door he turned and looked back to the farmer, who was rubbing his palms briskly on his thighs to warm them. He heard him say, "I know you don't like cold hands old girl…"

Henry slipped out into the night, there was time yet. The birds were still silent in their slumbers. He would be safe in his sanctuary well before their song heralded the day's return.


	15. Chapter 15

The hotel was old and run down, squatting on the main street in Huntsville surrounded on all sides by bars and strip clubs or empty storefronts. It was far removed from the areas frequented by the families of vacationers who spent their summers in the lakes.

The room was decrepit with walls bearing the evidence of too many disagreements and fights. The carpet on the floor was stained and dirty and the furniture worn and abused, with the markings of cigarette burns evident.

Anthony reclined on the threadbare bedspread, his arms behind his head staring at the rough surface of the ceiling.

A siren sounded shrill on the street outside and he turned his eyes to the window watching the pulsing of the red and blue lights through the grimy draperies as the police car passed. As the roar of the engine faded the green neon glow of the bar sign across the street resumed its illumination of the ceiling.

The sound of the fan of the air conditioner was a metallic lullaby. How could he sleep amid the smell of disinfectant and stale smoke?

Turning back the bedspread, he unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants to the floor. He slipped between the cool sheets. But he felt no more comfortable there… on a strange mattress between strange sheets.

It was all her fault...he could have been in his own cabin, if it weren't for her. If she had kept her mouth shut, he'd have her there; she would still be his…

Anthony flung out his arm, feeling across the battered bedside table for his cigarettes. He shook one out of the pack and taping it once or twice put it to his lips. He opened a book of matches whose cover was emblazoned with the logo of the "Evergreen Motel" and struck a match.

He drew a few times on the cigarette until it was well lit and the held the match up pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

He watched the yellow flame slowly consume the paper shaft of the match, Closer and closer it came to his fingertips. His eyes squinted against the discomfort and then pain as the match burned down to the tip of his fingers. Finally he shook it out and brought his burned fingertips to his lips.

"Kiss it better" he whispered and smiled to himself.

He lay on the bed in the dim light with one arm behind his head and drew on the cigarette. His lips twisted as he blew small clouds of smoke out the side of his mouth. The end of the cigarette burned a brilliant red.

The shifting his weight to the side he leaned on one elbow and methodically began to bur a swirling pattern of small circular holes through the sheet and into the mattress with the cigarette. He leaned back and admired his handiwork, smiling to himself.

He butted out the cigarette on the table top and leaned back on the bed. His hand moved to his chest trailing his fingers over the small florets of raised red scars where they bloomed on his flesh.

He thought of his uncle, who had for fostered him when his parents died…his uncle had taught him. His uncle had taught him well.

He had learned at his uncles hands that you could make someone do anything you wanted.

He had learned that you could make someone beg to be allowed, to do what you wanted.

All you had to do was press the little red end of the cigarette to their bare skin enough times, the way his uncle had done to him… the way he did to Jenny.

He felt a tightening in his groin at the thought and his hand snaked down his body to cup himself. He remembered her screams and how powerful her submission made him feel. He needed to hear her screams….

He drew another cigarette from the pack and lit up again. He lay back on the pillow and he thought about what he had seen tonight. He had been close to her, almost close enough to take her. But she had been with another man and that meant he needed to be careful...very careful.

He remember angrily how the pretty boy had been leaning over her, like he was hanging on every word that stupid bitch said. What the hell could he see in her? He had seen the way that she had her hand on his shoulder, like she wanted him.

The whore must be spreading her legs for him… that must be it. His brow furrowed in a frown. What man would want her after the way he had used her? What man would want her after he had taken her hair, her beautiful dark hair? What man would want to look at her?

No that man couldn't love her, not the way he loved her.

The whore must be giving herself to him.

Bitch, everything all of it…it was all her fault. "All of it was her fault." he told the glowing end of the cigarette.

He would teach her… he would find a way to get her again, all he needed was a plan.

He'll take care of her and that pretty boy who was fucking her. She belonged to him and nobody else could touch her.

He butted the cigarette out on the table and turned over on the bed pulling the blanket up around his shoulders. An ugly little smile spread across his face as he closed his eyes. She was his and he meant to have her.


	16. Chapter 16

It was two o'clock in the afternoon and the sky was cerulean, clear and empty. Golden sunlight streamed down. Its heat had warmed the rocks where they emerged from the soil, the bones of the earth. The lichen, dry and crisped in the heat, waited for the rain.

The golden sun baked and ripened the heavy tasseled heads of the wild grasses. The seeds within swelled with the forming life of the following season.

From the sunlit living room of the Chadwick cottage the lake was visible. It was placid and cool blue green under the summer sky.

Had there been someone to watch, he would have seen a small motorboat, not far off the shore moving steadily through the water. The boat bottom was shallowly angled up out of the water and it left a long and rumpled spreading wake behind the spinning propeller. There was a slim figure seated at the back of the boat, maneuvering the small outboard. When the craft was parallel to the cottage, it made a wide turn and approached the ledge in front of the building.

Had there been someone to watch, he would have seen that the driver was a slight young woman in slacks and a loose, rose colored shirt. Her hair was shorn short and made a rough cap close to her head. She looked almost boyish, and that appearance was accentuated by the fact that she wore a man's soft suede jacket. The breeze from the motion of the boat made her hair ruffle and flatten and the fabric of her clothing balloon with the breeze.

Had there been someone to watch, he would have seen her cut the engine a little off shore and allow the boat to drift up to the rock ledge in front of the cottage, deftly swinging the boat alongside the ledge. Holding the bow line in one hand she leapt nimbly to the shore. Pulling on the line, she towed the boat a short distance and tied it off securely to the closest tree trunk.

***

The vampire slumbered alone in the dark, safe from the sun, safe in his sanctuary.

***

Jenny tied off the bow line and gave it a hard pull; it did not loosen. Satisfied, she turned, shaded her eyes with one hand, and regarded the cottage.

It looked homey and welcoming, set slightly back from the lake at the top of a sweep of long grass.

The shaded forest crowded close on all sides, tree trunks marching down to the water's edge and even thrusting out their roots over the lake.

The cottage itself sat in a small sunny meadow. Lichen covered, grey weathered rock erupted at several points through the topsoil.

All else was carpeted with a knee high sward of drying grass. The whiskered, bent heads brushed softly against one another in whispered conversation.

Jenny felt as though she were wading through knee deep water as she approached the cottage, the grass softly rattling as she brushed through it.

She went up the steps of the porch. She could see herself and the lake reflected in the windows. She rapped sharply on the glass of the sliding door. There was no response. Cupping her hands on either side, she brought her face close to the door, resting her forehead on the glass, and could see into the sunlit living room of the cottage. It was deserted.

She felt strangely disappointed, though she had told herself that he wouldn't be here, that he was at that meeting and that all she was going to do was drop off his jacket. She knew that she had secretly hoped that he would be here and that she could spend some time with him.

He made her feel…he made her feel whole, complete, and connected and as though she could tell him anything and that he would understand. His presence silenced something in her and brought her a sense of blessed relief.

She left the porch and her feet bent the grass stalks down as she made her way around to the back of the cottage. The kitchen door stood ajar but the screen door was closed. She could see the kitchen beyond. There was a bright square of sunlight from the window lying across the kitchen table.

She put her face close to the metal screening, her nostrils full of the bitter metallic scent, and gathering her courage, called his name "Henry? Henry it's Jenny. Are you here?" Only the stillness answered her inquiry.

The hinges squawked as she opened the screen door and then it slammed shut behind her with a rattle as she stepped into the kitchen.

She had been at the Chadwick cottage many times over the years and knew both the Chadwicks well. She loved Ann's watercolors.

Somehow the cottage seemed like foreign territory today. She stood still for a moment, watching how her movements had disturbed the dust motes in the beam of sunlight from the window, making them swirl and dance.

There was a disproportionate feeling that the house was deserted. It wasn't just that it was empty, but that it had a feeling akin to that elicited by a ghost town, vivacity which had been and was now absent.

Jenny jumped as the refrigerator roared to life. Curious, she pulled on the handle and the door opened to reveal a small selection of cold drinks and sodas, Italian mineral water, and two unopened bottles of white wine. There were no condiments, no leftovers, no produce, no eggs, and no cheese. My God, she thought...what does he eat? Yet there were dishes in the drainer and an overturned dishpan rinsed clean in the sink, so he must eat something.

She knew she shouldn't, but she moved forward into the living room. She wanted a chance to see where he lived; she felt such a strong attraction to his stillness. She wanted to see, to understand who he was.

Her eyes were drawn to the unfinished painting on the easel and she walked towards it. The landscape seemed to have a luminosity all its own. There seemed to be life emanating from every tree, every surface. She wondered to herself, is this the thing that makes the artist? Is this what they see? What he sees?

She stood in front of the easel and raised her hand, mimicking the movements she imagined him making, as though she were painting. Smiling as she wondered what must it be like to create this way. To look out at the lake and then bring it back into existence on canvas.

Turning to the worktable she pulled the jar of brushes towards her and then rubbed at her nose as the scent of turpentine wafted outwards. The lacquered wooden pallet, though stained and well used, was scraped clean. She picked up one tube of paint after another from where they lay jumbled in the open box on the table.

Having surrendered all reticence to her curiosity, Jenny sat on the high stool at the table and drew a large, black covered, sketch book towards her. As she turned the pages she saw startlingly realistic renderings of local landscapes. Some of which she recognized and some of which she did not.

Then the series of landscape sketches ended and she drew in a sharp breath as she looked at a rendering of herself. Shaded soft and fine in the soft grays of smooth pencil work, she saw herself standing at the bar in the recreation hall with Lily leaning close, whispering in her ear.

The next page was a rapid line drawing of Lily. She sat in the front seat of a car and the windows in the background showed the darkness laid in with energetic strokes. Lily sat, twisted around facing the rear of the car, her arm resting along the back of the front seat.

The following sketch depicted Jenny herself again. She was viewed from behind, the back of her neck and ear, and her face in profile against a dark background, her short hair a series of heavy black strokes emerging from the dark. She ran her finger gently along the edge of the page. Tears prickled, at the thought that he had studied her carefully enough to render her from memory. She closed the cover and moved to the open door of one of the bedrooms.

The room was dim as she stepped through the door. She could see that the bed clothes were rumpled and mussed. Other than that, there was nothing out of place in the room. The draperies were pulled tightly closed over the window. She drew the curtains back from the window and the sunlight eagerly invaded the room.

Crossing to the closet she opened the door. She slipped off the jacket and returned it to the closet. She stood for a moment, then, lifting the sleeve of one of the shirts, ran the soft material through her fingers. She pictured his face as he smiled when she had agreed to pose for him. She thought that she might agree to almost anything to see that smile again.

She might agree to almost anything…her expression grew clouded as she recalled herself. She ran her fingers down the soft suede of the jacket once, and then again.

Turning, she retreated to the living room. After a moment's consideration, she tore a page from the back of a small sketchbook, and selecting a pencil from a cup full on the table, wrote a short note.

_Henry:_

_I just came by to drop off your jacket; it's hanging in the closet. I'll see you tonight._

_Jenny_

Crossing quickly back to the sunny kitchen she laid the note on the table and then turned to leave, pulling the kitchen door shut behind her and easing the screen door closed.

She jumped as a loud croak sounded just above her head. On the eaves of the cottage a large black crow regarded her curiously with shining black eyes. It bobbed its head up and down rapidly in her direction and with a rustling of its feathery coat; half spread its wings, then settled again.

As Jenny turned to make her way to the boat, the cruel, satin-black beak opened again and a rough voice bid her... farewell.

***

In the secure dark of his sanctuary the vampire slumbered.


	17. Chapter 17

The lake swallowed the last of the sun's fiery disk.

His still breast expanded, dragging in oxygen, fanning the ember of life into flame once more.

He relaxed back into his pillow with his arms behind his head. A small smile played across his lips, as he stared up into the darkened ceiling. Jenny was coming to pose tonight and he would have a chance to talk with her and get to know her more fully.

The more he spoke with her, the more he heard of her story the greater an affinity he felt and the more he wanted to know.

She had secrets; he knew this, as he had his own. She had loved once only to find out her lover was a monster and that touched close to his own heart and to his own past.

She was wounded and yet so alive that it almost hurt him to look upon her. There existed within her a stillness and resilience that seemed a promise. Her presence silenced something in him and brought him a sense of blessed peace.

He turned his head and studied the pastel portrait of her amid the trees; it glowed with the gold of the vitality that his vampiric senses delighted in. He thought that the way her life flowed over onto the trees surrounding (just to be sure, you mean for the trees to be surrounding her and not the life, right?) her in the drawing was fitting. He felt that himself when in her presence, her life force kindled something in him, some spark.

It was nine forty when Henry approached the panel behind the closet; his head came up as he caught Jenny's scent. He paused listening carefully, was she here already?

Relieved, he registered no heartbeat in the cottage.

He slid back the panel and her scent wafted in on the night air. His eyes fell to his jacket hanging there and once he had emerged he lifted it from the hanger and brought it to his face…she had been wearing it. He smiled, pleased, as he hung the jacket back in the closet.

She had been here, she had come to him.

He went to the dresser and turned on a small lamp; _it wouldn't do for her to find him standing in the dark_. He was drawn to the window, where the curtains were pulled aside. He knew that he had left them covering the window, as an added precaution, for when he emerged from sanctuary. The sky beyond the window was dark violet above the forest with the first of the stars beginning to emerge.

Barefooted and clad only in a pair of loose slacks and a rumpled unbuttoned shirt, he padded out into the living room, following the trail of her scent. He placed her at the drawing table, at the sketchbooks set aside there and he flipped the book open to the back pages where leaning in closely he found her scent. He knew that she had seen the sketches. He found her again at the bottle of brushes and the cup of assorted pencils on the table top and discovered her once more, in front of the painting at the easel.

He crossed to the kitchen and saw the sheet of paper white in the moonlight on the table top. For a moment he thought perhaps she had changed her mind, and he picked up the note reading it quickly.

_'Henry,_

_I just came by to drop off your jacket; it's hanging in the closet. I'll see you tonight._

_Jenny'_

Henry lifted his head. His hearing adapted perfectly to that sound, picked up an approaching heartbeat. A moment later he heard the rustling of the grasses as she approached the cottage. He was not ready…

He pushed his hands through his hair and glancing down saw his bare feet and bare chest. He placed the note on the table and began to button up his shirt.

_So much for being vigilant _he thought, shaking his head. _He had allowed himself to become so caught up in the trace that she had left behind, that he had been deaf to her approach. _

He heard her pause at the door for a few seconds, and her heart rate escalated slightly. Then she resolutely knocked on the door.

He ran his hands over his clothing briefly, _too late for anything much else_ he thought. Then he drew open the door.

She stood at the bottom of the steps glowing golden and spritely on the other side of the screen door. He thought, _she looks elfin with her dark eyes and shorn hair_. She was wearing dark pants and a loose fitting, rose colored blouse whose full sleeves gave the impression of a more antique costuming. He leaned his body against the door frame, his arms across his chest and he couldn't help the wide smile of pleasure that overtook his face as he regarded her.

***

The cottage was dark when Jenny approached, with the exception of a buttery, yellow light coming from one of the bedroom windows. She racked her brain…_had she left a light on in there this afternoon?_

_Maybe Henry wasn't home yet, he did say ten though and it was five to ten now. Well, if he wasn't home yet she could always go in and wait, she hoped that he wouldn't mind._

She paused at the bottom of the steps, and then stepped forward to resolutely knock on the door. There was a moment where she thought that he might not be there...and then the door swung open.

He stood in the doorway behind the screen, and she could feel the hated blush creep up her cheeks as he regarded her. But it was there, it was there...the wide eager smile that lit his face as he leaned, nonchalant, on the door frame, arms crossed, watching her.

His hair was tousled and the curls hug loosely framing his face and falling to his shoulders. She pried her eyes away from his to briefly touch where the light of the moon caught on the crucifix that hung against his smoothed muscled chest. Then down further to where the lower buttons of his shirt were fastened into the wrong holes, the tails hanging crookedly over the front of his trousers. _So_ she thought with a smile, _not quite as nonchalant as presented._

***

He stepped forward with a brilliant smile, swung the screen door open, and extended his hand...

"You came," he said. She placed her hand in his and with old world gallantry he handed her in through the door.

"Do you always stand around in the dark?" Jenny asked, indicating the darkened house with a sweep of her arm.

"I do apologize," he replied, smiling still, "I was running a bit behind." He reached past her to the light switch by the door and she felt the cool skin of his chest brush past.

She was close enough to catch the flinch of discomfort as he narrowed his eyes against the mellow light of the kitchen fixture.

He gestured broadly with a move that fell just short of a courtly bow, indicating that she should precede him to the living room. "Won't you come in," he said. As she moved past him he fell in behind her and she felt the lightest of touches as his fingertips rested at the small of her back.

He showed her through to the living room. It was illuminated only by the light spilling from the kitchen and bedroom doors. Jenny caught a glimpse of the vista of the lake in the moonlight still visible through the large living room windows.

When Henry passed by her and turned on the lamp, the lake was lost and the windows reflected only Henry and her standing in the living room.

She stood awkwardly for a moment and as Henry turned back to her she was struck again by the eagerness in his smile.

"I am afraid that you have caught me a little unprepared," he said, indicating his bare feet and rumpled condition. "Won't you have a seat?" he asked, glancing at the chairs positioned in front of the fireplace.

As Jenny sank into the chair… "May I get you something to drink?" after a short pause he continued, "Soda, mineral water, wine? I have a very good white which I think you might enjoy." He suggested.

Jenny nodded her head, content for the moment to let him ensure that she was comfortable.

"I would love a glass of wine." She said.

When he had passed back into the kitchen she re-seated herself more comfortably in the chair. She could hear him moving around in the kitchen, the opening and closing of cupboards and drawers, as though he was searching for something. She rose and went to the doorway, as much to be able to see him, as to know what he was doing.

Henry sensed her at the door and turning to her he spread his arms wide and said with a slight frown, "I know that there is a corkscrew here somewhere…"

Jenny laughed. Suddenly the awkwardness of the situation melted away.

She crossed the room and patting him briefly on the chest, lifted two wine glasses from the drainer by the sink. After a quick glance around she located the corkscrew in a container of utensils standing by the stove.

She handed it to him, saying, "You don't spend too much time in the kitchen, do you?"

Henry shook his head as he set about opening the wine. He saw no reason to lie.

"Very little," he said, as he pulled the cork from the bottle.

Jenny held out both glasses and Henry poured the pale liquid into them. They both raised the glass to their lips and smiled. As the silence lengthened, Henry's eyes crinkled and he indicated the door to the living room with a nod of his head.

Jenny turned and went back to the living room.

Henry's senses were full of her presence as he followed her. Though she had seemed uneasy at first, something had melted in her and she was more comfortable now.

"Would you mind," Henry said as he set his glass on the coffee table, "if I just took a moment to put myself in order?"

Jenny thought, _you look completely perfect to me_, but she said aloud, "Of course not, go right ahead."

Jenny began to walk slowly around the living room as Henry took himself off to the bedroom to change.

She sipped her wine slowly as she walked to the easel. She looked past the painting and realized that she could see Henry standing in the bedroom, reflected in the glass of the window.

He stood in front of the dresser and without unbuttoning it, drew his shirt up over his head. She could see the pale broad expanse of his shoulders and the angles of his shoulder blades moving as he rolled up the shirt in his hands. His back was smooth and muscular and dropped to a defined hollow at the waist of his pants.

"Beautiful" she said aloud.

Henry appeared in the doorway, bare to the waist, his discarded shirt in hand.

"Pardon?" he inquired with a downright cheeky smile as she turned. He could hear the increase in her heart rate and was captivated by the slow flush that crept up her neck to her face.

"Uhhh…the painting, it's beautiful," she waved her glass towards the painting.

"Ahhh..." Henry said as he disappeared back into the bedroom. Then raising his voice slightly she heard him say over the sound of running water from the bathroom. "I am afraid that I have been ignoring that piece. As of late, I have found other subjects that have engaged my interest."

When Henry reemerged a few minutes later, fully clothed, damp hair curling over his collar, she was standing at the drawing table. He came quickly across the room to stand close beside her where she stood looking down at her image on the page.

"If you can draw me from memory like this," she asked, "then why do you need…?"

Henry closed the sketchbook and took her hand.

"Those are just a quick reminder of what I have already observed. I want to render you, capture who you are on the canvas so that anyone who looks at the painting will be as attracted as I am. They will see you, behind your eyes."

Henry could hear her heart increase its pace and he felt her tense. Had he overstepped his place? He retreated slightly. Rubbing his palms together in front of his chest he said in a more matter of fact tone, "Shall we begin?"

Jenny nodded.

For the next two hours Henry had her pose in a variety of ways. He had her settle comfortably, and then he drew her from several different angles in each of the poses, moving himself from place to place around her as he did so.

True to his earlier promise they took several breaks and Jenny relaxed. As time went on, she even grew accustomed to the startling intensity of his gaze on her as he worked.

They had just taken a break and Henry had refilled her wine glass. She shivered slightly as she sipped the cold wine.

"Let me make a fire" Henry said. "If you are not too tired, perhaps I could do some color studies by firelight."

Jenny smiled, at ease with his enthusiasm, "No, I'm not too tired."

Henry busied himself with the fire and soon had a small blaze alight on the hearth.

Jenny moved closer to the warmth of the flame, seating herself on the floor, beside him where he knelt tending the fire.

She sat cross legged on the floor, her glass held loosely in her hand. She knew that he had refilled her glass at least twice while his own still stood untouched, wet with condensation. She wasn't drunk, though she felt relaxed and mellow. She realized she felt secure in his presence, safe.

The room dimmed as Henry turned off the lamp and the softer warm glow of the fire painted the walls in gold and shadow.

Henry returned with a sketch book of pastel paper and a large flat box of pastels. He sank gracefully to the floor across from her.

"Aren't you thirsty?" she smiled nodding towards his glass.

"No, I'm not…" he lied.

She stretched her arms up, running her hands through her hair and then dropped them to her sides again.

Henry said, "The rose of your blouse is beautiful against your skin, can you show me just a little more shoulder and neck?" He lifted a finger to trace the neckline of her blouse.

She didn't recoil but Henry felt her stiffen under his touch and her heart which had been beating so languorously only a moment before, began to race.

He dropped his hand and raised his eyes to her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you" he said with a frown.

Jenny looked straight into his eyes; he could see the pain just behind their surface.

"You didn't," she said simply, as her hands moved to her collar and she began to undo her buttons. "But there is something you need to know and I am frightened to show you."

Henry's eyes fell to her chest as she revealed her décolletage. Above the lace that covered her breasts, there ran long swirling lines of small circular red scars, a multitude of them bloomed across the area over her sternum and continued disappearing behind the material of her blouse.

Henry's eyes travelled back to her face, her eyes were dark, her pupils dilated and the fire light cast her features in high relief.

His eyes looked neither shocked nor repulsed Jenny thought. She saw something unnamed kindle in their depths. She straightened her shoulders and moved to re-button her blouse. Henry leaned forward and softly placed his hands on her shoulders. His eyes never left hers as he asked "Let me see it all."

Jenny nodded her permission and sat straight and silent as he pushed the blouse down off her shoulders and down each arm to pool at her wrists He reached behind her and undid the clasp at her back. The white lace fell to her lap as he gently lowered the straps down her arms.

Her torso was covered with the same angry swirling rows of scars. Only the skin above and around her nipples was smooth and unblemished but the weighted underside of her breasts were rough textured with the raised circular marks.

Jenny stared off into the middle distance; she could feel the touch of his fingers, so cool, so deft and sure as they ran down her arms. She felt his hands run delicately over the scars on her back then the cool palms come round to rest beneath the arch of her ribs. She felt the cool pale fingers cup her breasts and his thumbs circle the smooth skin that remained at the margin of her areola.

She heard a low sound emerge from his throat, almost a growl and she looked into his face. His eyes were ancient as he asked.

"He did this to you?"

Henry had seen the results of torture in the past; he had seen bodies broken in the name of war or in the name of faith. This…this had been done in a travesty of love. A monster had left his indelible mark upon her for the sake of his own pleasure.

He felt again Christina's fangs at his throat as she drained his mortal life away, as she brought him to her…

A single tear slipped from the corner of Jenny's eye. He lowered his face and his cool lips brushed kisses across the top of her breasts. His arms came around her and Henry pulled her tight against his chest. He wanted to ease her suffering, to make it as though it had never been, but that was beyond even the vampire.

He held her tight in his arms and she began to speak, her lips against his throat.

She told him then all of the things that Anthony had done. How he had isolated her and kept her a prisoner. How he had beaten her again and again, in the isolation of their cabin. How he had tortured her and broken her until she had begged, begged him to rape her and begged him to kill her. How he had slowly convinced her that she was to blame, that she deserved everything he did to her because she was too stupid to do what he wanted.

She sobbed into his shoulder as she told how on the day that Anthony had cut off all her hair and beaten her unconscious she had awoken to realize that she was already dead…her tortured body might be alive, but Jenny was dead. Anthony had destroyed her.

Her sobbing subsided as she told how she had become angry, anger that had flamed into rage at herself that her death was so pointless. Pointless, was that what her life was?

Anthony was lying in a drunken stupor in the cabin and she had, quiet as a mouse, dressed herself and walked off into the woods. She walked and walked, where she was not sure, as long as she could get away.

It grew dark and she hid in the trees, lying covered with leaves between their outstretched roots.

She told how she could hear Anthony searching for her in the woods, could hear the echoes of his voice shouting her name and shouting obscenities and threats of what he would do when he found her.

She told of eventually crossing the highway and being picked up and taken to the hospital. She told of the divorce and the gossip.

Henry thought that his ancient heart would burst; it was so full of rage and sorrow. That love could be so abused…

He released her and she sat back. He lifted a soft throw from the chair arm and held it open to her. She pulled her arms out of her sleeves and straps and turned so that he could wrap it around her shoulders. She pulled it tight around her and leaned back against the chair, her eyes on the fire. Henry sat with her, his body in contact with hers where their sides touched. He handed her a folded handkerchief from his pocket and she dabbed at her face.

She looked into the flames as she continued, "None of them knew," she said, "Oh they knew that he had beaten me and cut my hair, I couldn't hide that, but no one but Lily knows what he had really done. I kept what I am a secret, just Lily knows and now…you."

Henry could hear that her heart was slowing again after her outburst. The after effect of her anguish was heavy in her scent. She sniffed once or twice and then turned her face to him.

"I guess your Christina can't hold a candle to my Anthony," she said. Her chin trembled even as she forced the corners of her mouth up into a smile.

She startled at the short grim bark of laughter that emerged from Henry's lips.

"Christina," he said, his voice flat. "Christina…you don't know." Jenny watched as his eyes closed as if in pain and he shook his head in negation.

Jenny turned to look at him. "Tell me," she said.

"I can't!" his voice was strangled and he started to rise. She grasped at his hands and pulled him down to her. She looked into his eyes searchingly saying, "It can't be any worse than what I allowed Anthony to do to me!"

"I begged her," he said his voice ragged. "I begged her to change me."

"Change you?" Jenny asked confused.

Henry struggled to rise and upset the wine glass on the table. The wine splashed onto the table top, dribbling onto the floor. The glass fell shattering on the wood.

He was on his feet now and was turning away.

He could feel his control slipping.

He heard her whisper speak directly to his heart.

"You have to tell someone," she said.

Henry whirled and dropped to his knees beside her. He yanked at the cuff of his sleeve, and buttons flying, he pushed it to his elbow. He took a shard of the broken glass from the floor and with a quick glance to her face, slashed it down and across his wrist.

"My God," she began to reach for him.

He stopped her with the sorrow in his voice. "Watch," he commanded her, "watch and see what I let her do!"

Jenny's eyes fell to the bright blood that dripped from his upturned wrist and then she watched slack-jawed as the bleeding stopped and the edges of the gash drew back together. A moment later she touched trembling fingers to the cool unmarred flesh of his wrist.

"I-I wanted to be like her," he said. "I wanted to stay with her…."

His voice had changed slightly; there was sibilance to the words. She looked up at him and the comfort that she had thought to give…fled.

His eyes were completely black and blank like the night sky, though tears stood shining in them. The sensitive lips that had so recently brushed against her scars, lifted now over ivory fangs.

"Now do you see?" he said, "This is what I let her do."

Jenny scrabbled backwards away from him where he knelt beside her. She was shaking her head in negation of what her eyes told her. "No!" she said, "No, no, no…"

She gained her feet and backed towards the kitchen door.

Henry didn't move. He couldn't move. He stayed on his knees watching her, his palms upturned in supplication, watching the horror on her face. She clutched the blanket around her shoulders, and then she turned and ran through the door.

Henry's head sank to his chest and his shoulders slumped as he heard the screen door slam behind her.


	18. Chapter 18

By the time Jenny was at the top of the driveway her breath was coming in gasps, there was the sharp pain of a stitch in her side and she bent over with her hands on her knees. She tried to still her breathing and listened. She couldn't hear him…it…him, coming after her.

She shook her head as she continued to breathe in great gulps of air.

What had just happened? She asked herself. Only a few moments before she had felt so safe, so secure in Henry's arms. Then he had been so hurt and upset. She wanted to return to him some of the comfort he had offered her. Then he had turned in front of her eyes into that _thing_, alien, a monstrosity.

How could someone else have done that to him? It seemed like a horror movie, but she knew it was real…she knew it was real if from nothing other than the anguish in his eyes.

The pain in her side faded to insignificance, replaced by the pain in her heart.

Her tears began to flow as she caught her breath in self recrimination. My God, she thought, he trusted me, he trusted me with his secret, and I ran away. I fucking ran away.

Where he had accepted her and enfolded her in his arms, she had rejected him, overcome by her own fear. She straightened and drew the blanket around her shoulders. Though its beating had slowed, her heart felt scalded. She turned her head and looked back towards the cottage and began to retrace her steps.

***

Henry stood at the window, his arms wrapped around himself, looking out to the lake. He knew he should pursue her, he knew that she was a danger to him now. Yet a peculiar apathy had overcome him.

He had decided that he would show her what he was, at some point, when she was safe and secure. He wanted her to know, but he had had no intention of burdening her with that knowledge tonight.

It was her voice he decided, it was her whisper, urging him to confide, that had broken down his reserve.

He brought his hand to his forehead, rubbing the ache between his brows. He closed his eyes and saw again the horror on her face as she recoiled away from his truth.

He remembered the sudden thick scent of her terror and heard again her voice, shrill in her rejection,

No_! no, no, no…._.

Once again her heartbeat thundered with terror in his ears. He imagined that it would slow to the pulse of her contentment.

"Henry?"

***

He was standing at the window looking out to the lake when she returned to the cottage. If he was aware of her presence, he gave no sign. Jenny saw him raise a hand to his brow rubbing as though it pained him. She couldn't see his face. Was it Henry there? She chastised herself. It was Henry, no matter how he appeared.

She had hurt him she knew, and that knowledge made her feel powerful and yet the responsibility made her timid.

From the kitchen doorway she spoke his name, "Henry?"

***

He turned at the sound of her voice. All his senses attuned to her. She stood golden in the doorway, her aura blazing around her in billowing waves.

His brow lowered in a disbelieving frown over his blue eyes. There was honest puzzlement in his voice as he said, "J-Jenny, what are you doing here?"

She closed the distance between them in a few strides, and to his wonderment, she threw her arms around him, burying her face against his neck.

"Forgive me," she said, "forgive me, please. I was just startled, that's all. It was foolish; I know you would never hurt me."

He could feel her life as he stood in her embrace. He could feel her warmth and could sense the blood that flowed through her flesh. Her scent clouded his thoughts and his desire for her blood spiked sharply.

His jaw worked as his fangs began to descend and he swallowed thickly, both tears and saliva. He held himself rigid in her embrace. He dared not spare a thought to movement, as he threw the force of his will against the hunger, willing it back, willing himself back into control.

He heard the echo of Christina's cutting laugh. It is desire he told himself, it is want, not need. He would not be a slave to his desires.

Henry forced his fists to unclench and took hold of Jenny's shoulders. Disentangling himself from her embrace, he set her gently to one side. His eyes were blue once more when she looked up into his face. There was the slightest of sibilance to his voice as he spoke past his retracting fangs.

"Can we sit?" he asked "This is…difficult...for me."

Jenny's living fingers closed around his. She kept her eyes on his. Nodding, she allowed him to lead her to the living room.

She sank into the chair he indicated. He turned on the lamp, for her sake not for his own. He would have preferred the shelter of the dark.

He stooped and handed her the blouse which she had left discarded in her flight, and averted his gaze as she shrugged into the garment.

She was fastening the buttons when he went past her to sit in a chair opposite, but she grasped his hand as he brushed by, "Henry," she said, "Please, I need to know."

As she would not release his hand, he sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of her.

"Tell me," she said again, her eyes deep blue and liquid. He shook his head, at a loss, though he did not look away. She waited.

Finally he spoke, "I'm sorry that I frightened you," he began and then trailed off.

Jenny just shook her head; sudden, understanding lit her eyes.

"Is it easier if I ask questions? That's what Lily did for me, when I didn't know how to explain," she said.

She didn't wait for his response but said instead, "You said that Christina changed you. What...are you?"

"People have had many names for us over the centuries," he replied slowly, his eyes on her face, "The contemporary name, serves as well as any...vampire."

She sat back slightly but she did not release his hand and after a moment her grasp tightened slightly.

"Vampire," she said as she looked straight into his face. "Vaammppiirrrre, she rolled the word around on her tongue, you mean like Count Dracula?"

"Hardly," he sounded, affronted. "Stoker got most of it wrong, yet it seems that we are going to be haunted by his misconceptions for centuries." He glanced towards the fire.

"So what parts did he get wrong?" She asked, tugging on his hand to bring his attention back to her.

"I don't sleep in a coffin or in a pile of earth from my homeland. I don't turn into a bat or steal into rooms through the keyhole by turning into mist. I don't kill young women and turn them into my brides and feed them the blood of infants. The cross, holy water or sacred ground do not deter me. Garlic offends my sense of smell but is otherwise harmless," he rattled off the list in short order.

"Well, those are all good things to know," she said slowly. She leaned a little towards him, and looked intently at him…," So what parts was he close on?"

Henry took a deep breath and sought the words that would help her to understand.

"Stop stalling," she said.

"I have been a...vampire for a long time; I am far older than I look. We do not age and we will not die of natural cause. We heal quickly, as you have already seen. We are nocturnal beings and are, dormant during the day, as the sunlight is deadly to us. We are also solitary and territorial. We do not seek out or abide the company of others of our kind and we prefer to live anonymously among the humans upon whom we…feed."

Her eyes widened slightly, and Henry pressed on.

"We must drink blood or we will die. For this reason we learn early in our existence to maintain the appearance of humanity, but understand me Jenny, I am no longer human. It is the masquerade, which allows us to move among you undetected. We have the ability to exert our will over the minds of humans, in various ways. My senses are different from yours, enhanced. Physically, I am faster, stronger than a human. I am…adapted, to hunt the prey that provides me my life."

"We must drink blood or we will die," her lips moved as she silently reformed the words she had just heard.

He willed her to understand, and yet did not bring the force of his will to bear on her. After a moment he continued.

"You trusted me, I am sorry that I lied to you," he said sadly.

"Did you?" she asked.

At his look of puzzlement she said, "Did you lie to me?"

She released his hand, sat back and began to speak, ticking the items off on her fingers.

"Stop me when I come to a lie. Your name is Henry Fitzroy. You live in Toronto and are an artist. You were born in Blackmore, Essex. You moved to Canada many years ago. Your parents are dead; their names were Elizabeth and Henry. You have no other close relatives. You are friends with the Chadwicks and rent this cottage on occasion. You love to walk at night. You are completing a series of landscape paintings and you want to paint my portrait."

She paused and then continued more softly, "You were gentle and kind with me, and you accepted who I appear to be and…who I really am."

"You didn't interrupt me, so I am assuming that you didn't lie. Any more than I lied, when I kept what I am from you."

Henry shook his head, "It's not the same…." But she cut him off.

"No, it's exactly the same," she insisted. "You are as you portrayed yourself to me in every way. If you are also something more, it doesn't change the truth of what I already know."

Henry sat back, nonplussed.

Jenny continued, "You said that you are no longer human, does that mean you were before Christina did this to you?"

"Yes, as I told you the other night, Christina appeared to be older than I by several years though in truth she had been a vampire for over a century when she found me. I was just short of my seventeenth birthday. She was beautiful and I loved her. I was blinded to what she was by my adolescent passion.

My family was…powerful, and I know now that she sought to position herself close to that power. She told me that she loved me, and I believed her. I trusted her.

She, she fed from me without my knowledge, she may have used her abilities on me, yet I believe the choices that I made were made of my own free will. The responsibility for those choices is mine.

When suspicions about her true nature were aroused, she came to me seeking shelter and protection. It was only then that she admitted to me what she was. She said that she had to leave. By then it was too late, I loved her and I wanted to…I wanted to stay with her. It wouldn't have mattered if she were the devil himself at that point.

In the end she betrayed that love and trust, though I did not view it in that way at the time.

She manipulated me using my love for her. I was so foolish."

"I asked her to turn me," he began again, "but she wasn't satisfied with that. In my desperation, I begged her to. I begged her to do what I am sure was her intention, from the first time she tasted me."

Jenny winced at the description but caught up both his hands in silent encouragement.

Over a period of time she fed nightly upon me. I grew weaker, weak unto death and yet I surrendered to her each night with joy. At last came the night where she shared her blood with me as I lay dying. She whispered to me that she would be waiting, that I need have no fear.

I awoke a vampire, in my coffin beneath the earth. I was alone in the dark and…" his voice trailed off.

Jenny's breath emerged as an audible gasp and she released his hands. Henry's gaze refocused on her face and as she stood and he rose slowly to his feet.

She opened her arms and drew him to her. In her embrace he continued, "She left me buried alive for three days, alone and undead. I was newborn. The hunger consumed all that was left of Henry, as was her intent.

When she finally released me, I was…as she desired, feral and vicious and completely dependent upon her. I lived or died at her whim for the next year as she taught me the ways of the night.

I loved her, but in the way of our kind, when the year was past, she abandoned me."

His voice was hoarse as he halted and he rested his head against hers.

She set her hands on either side of his waist and drew back looking into his eyes. Her aura blazed as though she pulled resolve from the very air surrounding her. She repeated back to him his own words.

"Let me see it all."

The vampire slipped from behind the mask. Jenny looked up fearlessly into the black gaze that she could not read. The tip of his tongue emerged to moisten a lower lip dimpled by the tips of his fangs. His head lifted and she saw him close his eyes and breathe in as though testing the fragrance of the night. He sighed and she felt his arms pull her to him. She knew instinctively that any struggle would be to no avail. Jenny watched those blank eyes leave her face and travel to her throat. He bent his head and she felt his lips touch her shoulder, the slight scrap of his fangs as he nuzzled into her.

"Henry?" she whispered.

"I'm still here," he responded.


	19. Chapter 19

Henry inhaled the scent of her life, so close under his lips; he felt the soft texture of her skin against his cheek as he turned his face to the column of her throat. She trusted him; he could sense it in the slow steady pulse, so near at hand.

He was not going to feed; he had known that, before he took her in his arms. He would do nothing to force her. If she came to him, it would be of her own volition.

But he wanted her to know, to know who and what he was… and he could wait. He could wait for the possibility of something far more precious than the blood that he took…the far sweeter, rarer gift of blood freely given in affection.

As she had trusted her truth to him, so he had trusted her with his secrets. Now he would grant her the time to do what she would with those secrets.

"Henry?" He heard the tremulous inquiry in her voice.

She was seeking the familiar, the Henry that she knew, to reassure herself before she ventured into uncharted territory. This was something that he could give her.

"I'm still here," he responded

***

His arms loosened as he raised his face away from her neck. She felt his body relax and some terrible thrumming tension in him subsided.

It was Henry's blue gaze and gentle smile that met her eyes as he looked at her and said.

"You smell wonderful…almost good enough to eat."

Her eyes widened a little in shock, and then at his widening grin, she began to laugh.

Henry dropped his arms and ran a hand through his hair.

"It has become quite late," he said gently, "I believe you said you have to work tomorrow."

Regretfully, the everyday world intruded on the moment. She thought that she might suggest that she could just stay…stay with him, but in her heart she knew, she was not ready. She needed time to think through what she had learned tonight, time to adjust, away from the heady pleasure of his presence.

"You're right," she said with a wry smile that ran down to a pout as she continued, "but I still have so many questions."

"Perhaps you can ask me more, tomorrow evening…after sunset," he suggested, with a slight emphasis on the 'after sunset.'

"I'd like that," Jenny said. Then as she was struck by a sudden thought, her brow lowered in a slight frown.

"Are you safe here, Henry?" she asked. "During the day, I mean. Do you have a safe place? I was here this afternoon and there was no one around. I came right into the cottage; if I could do that, then anyone could."

Her concern warmed him.

"Quite safe," he assured her, as they walked towards the door. "All I require is a secure place where the sun cannot touch me."

Jenny looked about her. Henry, divining her thoughts, continued, "We very seldom reveal the place where we rest during the day: we are at our most vulnerable to attack then. Our sanctuary is one of our most closely guarded secrets."

He held open the screened door to the cottage and followed as she descended the steps. At the bottom step she turned to him. "I will never tell your secret, not to anyone, not even to Lily, you know that don't you?"

He nodded as he took her arm, and they walked through the grasses, towards her car.

"And I will never tell yours," he said, "though I may not be as strong as you. So it may be in your best interests to keep Vera away from me," he smiled.

He held open her car door and as she settled into the seat he said, "I would like to see you home, if I may. For me the night is still young. When I know that you are safe at home, I will walk back to clear my head, and then I can resume work on your sketches."

When Jenny nodded her agreement Henry went around and got into the passenger side of the car.

"Will you pose again for me?" he asked her when they were on the highway.

"Just try to stop me," she smiled, "You owe me a portrait sir! And I happen to know, you are a man of your word."

***

On Dalton Island the forest was a dark and quiet enclave. The surrounding surface of the lake was misty as the air cooled, but the sky arching overhead was full of stars. He had no attention to spare to such celestial glories.

When he had paddled to the island, he had positioned himself in the branches of a tall tree at the forest's edge. This allowed him a clear view through to the Chadwick cottage.

The way the rumor mill worked here in cottage country, it hadn't been difficult to find out where Jenny's pretty boy was staying. He even had his name, Henry… Henry Fitzroy.

Through his dingy shirt, the tree bark was rough against his back. He lowered the binoculars and his jaw clenched in displeasure, he felt the flush of blood suffuse his face.

He had been watching them…watching through the windows of the cottage. He had seen how the whore had run into his arms, how she clung to him.

The bitch had never touched him that way, had never run willingly to him. Didn't she know she was his, hadn't she learned that yet? He was going to have to teach her. She was his! And that son of a bitch was going to pay for touching her. First, get rid of the pretty boy. Then he'd take care of the whore.

He waited in his position in the tree. Eventually he saw them leave the cottage and saw the swing of the car headlights at the top of the driveway. As they headed off down the highway he surmised that her 'pet artist' was driving her home.

I can wait, he thought. I can wait until the bastard comes home alone. I can wait until he goes to bed. No point in taking any chances. When he was sure the asshole was asleep then he would have the advantage.

He would be able to get even with him, for stealing what was his! He patted the knife that hung at his side. Anthony loved knives and this one was large and sharp, inside its leather sheath, a relic of earlier days in the northlands. His fingers caressed the leather…yes he would get his revenge.

***

It was after three when Henry cleared the trees at the water's edge and stepped into the grassy clearing in front of Chadwick cottage. His mind was awhirl with his own musings and yet he felt his eyes drawn to the cavernous unchanging heavens above him. The glittering stars made him feel almost…young.

He had left Jenny safe at her door and then started back through the trees, inordinately happy with the way that she had briefly pressed her lips to his, before she had quickly turned and disappeared through the cottage door.

He was sure that he could trust her with his secret, and yet he was not at all sure of her ultimate reaction to the information she had learned tonight. He was cautiously optimistic. In the past he had had much more well developed and secure relationships dissolve completely once he revealed his true self.

The nature of their connection was such that he had hopes it would not unravel when she had time to consider what he was, in the cold light of day.

Well, we shall see, he thought, as he crossed to the porch and pounded up the steps, sliding back the glass door.

The room was bathed in soft light from the lamp. It was verging on uncomfortable to his night adapted eyes. The fire had burned down to coals and ash on the hearth.

He collected his sketches and materials and sat down at the table to review them. He soon found that he was staring blankly at the pages, as his mind kept returning to his earlier confession to Jenny.

He wondered at all the things he had confided about Christina.

In spite of his territorial imperatives, and beyond the link between sire and childe, he still had feelings for her. He would not deceive himself.

Feelings that were the reason, he remembered her in paint on canvas every year. It was a ritual to render her, to exorcise her from his heart. He felt the need to make her static, in portraiture, outside of himself.

Was his sire a monster? He asked himself.

He wanted to believe that she had loved him, and yet the rational part of him knew her as manipulative and selfish in the extreme. She was, above all else, hungry for power and advantage. He had seen that illustrated too many times over the years to delude himself with any childish romantic notions.

But then, he wondered, if his sire was a selfish and traitorous monster, had she planted the seeds of those traits in him, while he languished under her tutelage?

It had taken him many years to recognize his sire for what she truly was, and even still, even now, something was firmly rooted in his heart for her, no matter how diligent he was in excavating it. The feelings always sprang to life again. They budded and bloomed in the form of a longing that he could not seem to satisfy.

God knows, he had painted her every year for over four centuries.

Over the years those portraits had changed in their nature as his feeling had altered with experience. They had evolved from the soft romantic longings of a lost and lovesick newborn to the cold and calculated images of the abused. Her image morphed from painting to painting with the passage of time.

He realized that Jenny, through the prism of her own suffering, had helped him bring what he felt into focus.

As she had allowed him to look at the reflection of her past, in order for her to be able to move forward, so too had he shown her his suffering so that he might find some peace.

He took out a large pad of paper and began to sketch in the preliminary composition of the portrait he wanted to paint of Jenny.

He roughed in the figure of Jenny, seated at a vanity. She was to be viewed from behind. The foreground was deeply shadowed and soft focused, as indistinct as is the future.

She was clothed in the Tudor style garments of his youth. Her slim back fell to the tiny waist that would have been restrained by a corset. The richly embroidered parlet laced tightly down her body and the lush gown was rumpled where the full skirts bunched beneath her as she sat at the table. The back of her neck rose up long and slender above her shoulders, and the incongruous dark spiky strands of her hair faded into the shadows.

The majority of the page was taken up by her reflection that stared back at the viewer from the mirror, gazing from the past to the future.

She would be rendered in the warm golds and bronzes and reds of candlelight, he thought. She leaned towards the mirror, her long, slashed sleeves flowing down her arms to puddle lavishly on the vanity top amid the jewel boxes and combs. The long, pale and unmarred expanse of her chest rose above the swell of her breasts to the deep hollow at her throat. The juncture of shoulder and neck was encircled by a shimmering jeweled necklace. Her curiously strong jaw and femininely rounded chin were definite below the sultry lower lip that was plump and red, bowed to a sweetly pleased smile. Her cheekbones, tinted with a delicate blush, rose high over her slightly hollow cheeks and cradled those forthright blue eyes. Her expression would be one of enjoyment and her brow would be broad and untroubled. The spiked and short dark hair, of which he was so enamored, would fade back to the deep shadows at the top of the frame.

At the perimeter of the mirror the viewers would see the background details of the room reflected in deep shadow.

It was there that he placed Christina, wrapped wholly in a dark burgundy cloak, her dark hair streaming down around her pale, cold and spiteful face. Her expression would be one of anger and frustration. She was left as a part of the shadowed and distant past.

He sat back and regarded the drawing and knew that he had his composition. Now he needed to pose Jenny for the final sketches.

He picked up the pad and carried it with him as he turned off the lamp, the room dropping into a comfortable darkness; dawn was perhaps fifteen minutes away now. The fire had burned itself out while he had been absorbed in the drawing. He went to the bedroom and closed the draperies over the window as an added protection for when he emerged tomorrow.

He would bring the drawing into sanctuary with him. He would have almost an hour to work with it when he rose tomorrow evening, before he went to meet Jenny.

Henry slid back the panel and made for his resting place.

***

When Anthony had watched Fitzroy return to the cottage he had made up his mind. When the lights went out in the cottage he would climb down from the tree and make his way back to the canoe that he had 'borrowed' from a cottage dock. He waited…

***

Anthony brought the canoe up to the shore in the first pale rays of the dawn. It tipped dangerously as he stepped precariously balanced onto the rock ledge in front of the Chadwick cottage.

It had been almost an hour since he had watched the lights go off in the living room of the cottage and he was cold and furious. He thought that Fitzroy was never going to stop drawing. He had sat watching him at his drawing table until it was almost dawn.

He had almost decided to give up the advantage of attacking him in his sleep, out of frustration, but like all bullies, the idea of confronting someone of his own size and strength frightened him.

He pulled the canoe up onto the grassy ledge and made his way through the rustling grass. The sky was lightening rapidly and the cool dawn light was tinting the landscape in color as the sun began her journey. He paused to listen but could not hear any sound in the cottage.

Anthony smiled to himself, thinking, the bastard is probably dead to the world. His hand found the hilt of his knife again, as with a bestial curl of his lips he thought that he was about to make that a reality.

He entered through the kitchen door of the cottage and slowly inched the screen door silently closed. It would not do to lose his advantage by waking the son of a bitch. He slid the blade silently from the sheath and held the knife upright in his hand as he crept stealthily through to the living room.

Ten minutes later, the screen door slammed, bouncing behind him, silencing the early morning celebrations of the birds. Anthony swept furiously through the grass, heading for the canoe.

Where was the fucking asshole? He had searched every room in the cottage. And he wasn't fucking there!

He had seen him turn off the lights, and he hadn't seen him leave, yet the cottage was empty. He had even felt the sheets of the unmade bed; they had been cold.

He had barely restrained himself from tearing up the interior of the cottage. He wanted to trash the place, but then he didn't want 'her knight in shining armor' to know that he had been there so he had stifled the urge. It left him feeling frustrated and inadequate.

He pushed the canoe back into the water roughly and it listed dangerously to one side and drifted outwards from the shore as he threw himself into the small craft.

"Fuck, fuck…FUCK!" He shouted to the morning air, as he struggled to extricate the paddle from where it was wedged beneath the sheath of his knife and the arch of the side of the canoe. The handle of the knife dug bruising into his waist as he finally yanked the paddle free and violently stabbed it down through the lake's surface.

"It's all that bitch's fault." he muttered."It's all her fault!"

Anthony felt cheated. If that pretty boy thought he could get away without being punished, he was _so_ fucking wrong.

He was full of a poisonous, impotent rage. He would make them pay…he would make them _all_ pay.


	20. Chapter 20

Jenny stifled a yawn behind her upturned hand. Glancing at the clock, in spite of her best intentions to the contrary, she saw that it was seven forty five. Three hours and fifteen minutes until she was off work and she could be with Henry again.

She looked to the windows of the Recreation Hall. They were grey and dim with the rain.

***

The storm had come up this morning, in the rapid way that summer squalls overtook the lakes.

The sky had been threatening by two o'clock and by three when she arrived at work, there were the ominous rumblings of thunder over the lake.

Mondays were always slow at the Hall until the cottagers who didn't feel like eating Sunday leftovers started to come in around five to order off the dinner menu. She was always busy up until about seven, and then if she was lucky, she could get a half an hour for her dinner break. Today the rain had dissuaded many of the cottagers from venturing out, so the hall was quiet.

Jenny supposed that many people were at home with their board games, radios or televisions. Perhaps they were reading in front of their fireplaces, lit against the cool damp.

She thought that she would ask Henry to light the fireplace tonight or perhaps he could bring his drawing materials to her place and she would cook a little something…no, that's right, there would be no cooking for Henry, she thought.

She shivered slightly in the titillating strangeness of the situation; it was not an altogether unpleasant sensation.

All afternoon long, it seemed that the time did just not want to pass. There was an abiding sense of anticipation, while the storm hovered overhead.

At six thirty, Reggie had told her that he would cover for her if she wanted to take an early dinner before the evening business began to pick up.

Taking an umbrella from the stand by the door she decided to walk down to the tourist dock just behind the Hall.

The air was cool and grey-green between the trees as she strolled along the bark path to the water.

The air had a static expectancy about it in the early twilight of the storm. She could hear the drops of rain that dripped from the spreading canopy of leaves above to spatter in the underbrush.

The dock was deserted and she walked out to the end, standing, looking over the slate grey water of the lake. She breathed in the freshening moist air in large inhalations, as though she could make herself part of the living landscape.

As she stood under the umbrella, it began to rain again. The drops fell slowly, dimpling the calm surface of the water.

She moved to the shore and sheltered under the overhanging boughs of the trees, watching the water as the rain began to fall faster and heavier. She could hear the rumbling thunder across the lake whose waters were pock marked now. She saw the drops fall, bouncing in splashes against the wood of the dock.

The rain fell faster still, sheeting down and slapping against the water's surface in millions of tiny ringed craters. Jenny stood in the dripping shelter of the forest watching the storm's sudden fury.

She thought of what Henry had told her, that he was "dormant" during the day. That he must hide himself away from the sun, from the sun's light no matter how dim. He had told her that exposure to the sun would kill him.

Her brow furrowed as she tried to picture that animated face still in his repose, in some secret place. She wondered could he hear the rain, smell it, sense it as he slept?

She thought of the feel of her mouth against his cool lips in the infant hours of the morning when he had seen her home. She was shocked by the sudden flush that spread below her belly.

Turning, she headed back to the Hall, thinking she would make it through the rest of the evening somehow. When it was dark. He had said he would come to her when it was dark.

***

Now it was seven forty five and she had to make it through the next three hours. Lily was coming by at eight, but she had already warned her that she was seeing Henry tonight. Surprisingly Lily hadn't even teased her...too much.

There were a fair number of tourists up from Toronto this week and the business in the Hall picked up a bit as the evening wore on. People dropped in to have a drink and to socialize. The storm continued to hang over the lake and everyone and everything had a certain damp chill about them.

Jenny was kept busy and it wasn't until slightly after nine that she suddenly realized that Lily hadn't shown up yet. She was sure that the rain wouldn't have kept her away. However, it wasn't impossible that Lily hadn't made plans with some other friends; she had after all basically told Lily that she wanted to be alone with Henry.

Now there was a difficult situation. Jenny had never been good at keeping secrets from Lily. She always seemed to know, somehow, when Jenny was keeping something from her.

She had no intention of telling Henry's secret to Lily...but even if she had she couldn't quite picture how she would go about doing so. Her lips curled in a slight smile as she imagined herself saying…, "You know the new guy I'm seeing? Well, not only is he an artist but he's also a vampire."

Her eyes travelled to the windows and she could see that it was very dim outside. The heavy broken clouds of the storm were partially obscuring the sun as it dropped below the horizon. Dark and forbidding on top, the clouds were painted in shades of gold and pink and purple underneath.

Henry had said he would come as soon as he could after the sun set.

She glanced at the clock…9:10; she willed the time to pass.

***

Even underground the air carried the freshet scent of the summer rain. It was moist and heavy in his first breath. His ears were sensitive enough to hear the clatter of the drops on the cottage roof far above him and the distant rumblings of the thunder.

Something...something at the limit of his senses, set him on edge.

He lifted his head and drew in several deep breaths, 'tasting' the air. His eyes widened and his pupils dilated. A low growl that was little more than a vibration in his belly, escaped him.

He scented an intruder, someone had been here. An unknown male had been in the house above, close…too close to his resting place.

He briefly considered that Jenny may have let his secret out, but he cast that idea aside almost immediately.

He knew that the intruder was gone and yet the fact that the danger had been present while he lay unaware infuriated him.

He had learned over the years to accept the fact that he was denied the day. He would never learn to accept the defenseless nature of his repose. It frightened him.

He had surged to his feet when he first detected the intruder's scent. Now he grabbed for his pocket watch. 9:10. He exhaled loudly in frustration.

He was trapped here, trapped for at least another thirty minutes. He paced across the room. Two paces, whirled, and two paces back, again and again.

His eyes fell on the composition sketch of Jenny's portrait but he could not focus his attention on that now.

His territorial instincts were inflamed and he was trapped here.

He caught himself on the ladder, his hands on the bolts. He forced himself to calm and returned to the bed. He seated himself and placed the pocket watch open on the table in front of him. He leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees. His eyes on the watch, he composed himself to wait.

At 9:40 he was at the panel to the closet. He leaned his forehead against the wood and listened; he could hear the rain on the roof but nothing else. There was no heartbeat in proximity.

He slid back the panel and stepped into the bedroom. The room was dark, curtains drawn and damp with the moist air at the open window behind the curtains. The intruders scent hung in the air sharp and challenging.

He had been here, in this room. Henry's lips thinned. He followed the scent to the door, to the living room and then to the kitchen. His feet were soaked as he stepped through the puddle of water on the linoleum floor where the rain had blown in through the screened door. He leaned close. The intruder had entered here.

Bare footed and bare to the waist, Henry emerged into the deep evening, down the steps and to the perimeter of the trees. In the wet he lost the scent and doubled back. The rain was falling steadily and he pushed his wet hair away from his face. He lifted his head as he retraced his steps to the cabin.

There, he had it again and followed quickly now, the slightest of remaining spoor...to the drop off at the lake's edge. Here the grass was bent and broken. He had come and gone by boat, then.

Henry stood looking out across the lake, the rain showering down. He couldn't follow, but he would not forget the scent.

***

A half an hour later he was pulling up to the Recreation Hall. The rain had turned the hard packed earth of the parking lot into a wet field of reddish brown mud. The lone light at the center of the lot was sadly inadequate in the gloom.

He pulled his car to a stop close to the Hall; there were perhaps fifteen cars in the lot at this hour, less than forty minutes to closing.

Jenny was watching the door from behind the bar as Henry came in out of the dark. He was dressed in dark clothing and the shoulders of his jacket were damp with the rain. His hair hung in loose curls to his shoulders, sparkling here and there with the rain drops held captured.

His eyes found hers and a wide smile lifted his lips. She felt her own face mirror his expression.

Henry stopped inside the door of the Hall to allow his eyes to adjust to the lighting and to give himself a moment to compose himself in the presence of the group of humans. He had not fed since early Sunday morning.

***

He saw her behind the bar and he felt himself smile. The surrounding humans faded into insignificance as his attention focused on her. Her returning smile erased some worry that he had not acknowledged even to himself. He could sense no change in her demeanor towards him.

He crossed to the bar where she stood and she could catch the scent of the rain and the night on him as he leaned in to press his cool lips to her cheek in a greeting.

His blue eyes were intent on her as he said, "Good evening Jenny," and his smile made even that simple statement seem slightly suggestive. Jenny felt a blush rise to her face.

"Hi, Henry," she said, and then continued after a long pause during which she watched one of his eyebrows inch slightly upward," Why don't you have a seat at one of the tables and I'll bring you something to drink while you wait?"

Henry nodded his acquiescence and crossed to a nearby table. He removed his jacket and hung it on the back of the chair and then seated himself. He watched as she approached him, her aura a golden tissue of light. She placed a glass of red wine on the table in front of him and then slid into the chair opposite.

"Thank you," he said, his eyes on her face.

Henry knew what she wanted, she wanted him to drink. In the past, he had seen this behavior again and again. Jenny knew what he was and as far as he could tell accepted what he was, yet for her own satisfaction and security needed to see him behave in a familiar "human" way. The illustration that he could consume something other than blood somehow provided that security.

He raised the glass to his lips and after a cautious sniff of the aroma, took a small amount in his mouth. He frowned slightly; it was not a vintage he could recommend, but he swallowed nonetheless. Then he sipped again and then once more. He returned the glass to the table top but let his fingers remain curled about the stem.

Cocking his head to the side, he raised one eyebrow as he looked at her rapt expression, chin on fist watching him, and said, "Satisfied?"

She did not pretend to misunderstand, for which he was grateful, and even had the good grace to look slightly abashed as she nodded. She smiled slowly, "Sorry."

Henry shook his head and picked up the glass again. "I am surprised that Lily isn't here tonight," he said after taking another sip, in an attempt to change the subject.

Jenny's face lowered into a worried frown and he could hear her heartbeat increase.

"I know," she said, concern coloring her voice. "She was supposed to come by at eight but she never showed up. It's not like her. I'm a little worried," she added.

"When you are finished here, if you like we could drive to your home to see if she is there," Henry suggested. It gave him pleasure to see the relieved gratitude on her face.

"Just let me finish up here and then we can go," she said, rising from her chair. As she passed him she rested her hand briefly on his shoulder and then was gone.

Henry remained seated, relaxed, with his arms resting on the table top and looked idly around the room as he turned the wineglass by its stem. The hall had emptied out to the point that there were just a few couples and lingering patrons left. The janitor was slowly upturning the chairs on the empty tables in readiness for closing.

There was a young couple at the table across from him. The man's back was to him but the woman's eyes met Henry's over her drink. Henry watched the interest kindle there as she looked him up and down.

He smiled in the instinctive invitation of the predator, and then broke his eye contact, returning his gaze to the red liquid in his glass. The woman's mouth pouted slightly in disappointment and then she returned her attention to her companion.

He could hear the rain on the roof of the hall.

The scent was familiar as he looked up at the janitor who had stopped at his table. He could sense his mark on the man and Henry's eyes fell almost involuntarily to the dark bruise that bloomed on the inside of his arm above the elbow.

Andrew cleared his throat. Usually he wouldn't interfere, but he felt a special kind of protectiveness towards Jenny, after all she had been through. He wanted to be sure that this young man's intentions were honorable.

Henry's blue eyes met the man's as he cleared his throat and said, "Our Jenny is a wonderful girl and we don't want to see her hurt."

"Nor would I," Henry agreed, his memory providing him with the taste of the man's blood on his tongue. He lifted the glass to his lips and drained it.

Jenny came up behind Andrew and rested both her hands on his shoulders. She smiled at Henry and said, "I should have warned you, I have an entire town full of big brothers!" She gentled the comment with a quick peck on Andrew's cheek and then held out her hand to Henry.

"We can go," she said.

***

The rain was insistent as they pulled down the tree lined driveway to the Beacon cottage. The windshield wipers slapped back and forth and the headlights of the car flashed against the dark wet exterior of the building. The lake beyond was a dark rumpled surface only subtly illuminated by the diffuse light of the hidden moon.

Jenny held her jacket up over her head as she ran to the cottage. She was up the steps and through the screen door in an instant. She was calling Lily's name, but Henry knew that she wasn't there, he could hear no heartbeat but Jenny's as he approached the cottage.

He watched the lights come on through the windows, first the living room and then the bed room further back. He heard Jenny's heart increase its beating as she searched.

He had just entered the door when he saw Jenny emerge from the kitchen. Her hands hung loose at her sides. She was ashen and her eyes were dark and horrified.

"Jenny?" he began. She walked like an automaton straight towards him and he put his arms around her.

"What is it? What's wrong?" He extended his senses outwards…they were alone.

He took Jenny's hand, and shielding his eyes he walked into the brightly lit kitchen.

The room was in disarray and there were smashed dishes on the floor where someone had swept the counter clean. There on the buttercup yellow Formica of the countertop, spelled out in the dark brown burnt circles left by his cigarette, was a message.

I HAVE HER…COME HOME TO ME.


	21. Chapter 21

Henry's instincts were on high alert and had been from the instant that he entered the kitchen. He could discern the same scent that he had found at his cottage this evening. His eyes darkened as he scanned the room for any threat.

Jenny was standing next to him, shaking like a leaf in the wind and staring fixedly down at the message burned into the countertop.

He pulled her into his arms, trying to shelter her with his body.

As Jenny registered the cool length of him against her and his arms enfold her she felt whatever reserve that held her upright give way.

She collapsed with a sob against Henry as her knees would no longer support her. He cradled her in his arms.

"He told me, he told me he would kill her if I left him. I shouldn't have left. He has her now. If I had just stayed there, she would be safe," she sobbed and Henry could hear the hysteria growing in her voice.

"You don't understand what he can do, what he is capable of…. He's going to hurt her, my baby sister."

She was shaking her head back and forth as though she could deny the reality of the situation, as she clutched at Henry's shirt front where he held her against him. "He's going to kill her…to punish me. I should have stayed…"

The scent of her fear and despair filled the kitchen and was overpowering. Her hysteria hammered at his self control and the vampire edged close behind the mask.

Henry held Jenny away from him by her shoulders and shook her slightly.

"Jenny!" He called to her. She would not respond. He allowed a little of his will to bleed into his voice.

"Jenny! Look at me!"

Slowly her frantic eyes met his gaze. He caught her as soon as their eyes met. He willed her to be calm, his persuasion inherent in the timber of his voice as he bid her, "Calm yourself."

She drew in a shuddering breath and though the tears still flowed down her cheeks, the blank hysteria left her eyes. She felt his will flow into her, strengthening and shoring up her own. When he saw that she was again resident behind her eyes. He released his compulsion.

"Is it Anthony?" he asked her carefully.

She nodded numbly. "Yes."

She glanced towards the countertop, and Henry once again called her back.

"What does it mean?" he asked her in a low voice as her attention focused on him again. "What does it mean, 'Come home to me,' do you know?"

Jenny looked perplexed for a moment and then she said slowly, "It means that he has taken her to our cabin. He wants me to come to him there. I have to go. I have to go back."

Henry nodded his head in agreement, though it pained his heart. "I believe you must," he said slowly…

"And I believe that I must go with you."

***

Henry was driving as Jenny stared out into the dark through the passenger side window, at the trees flashing by at the side of the highway. It was easier, easier to just watch than it was to think about what Anthony might have done…or could be doing…right now to Lily. Her lower lip quivered, and her eyes stung as she felt the crushing weight of her guilt come down.

"Don't." His calm voice came from beside her, "Don't. It won't do any good and you won't be able to help her if you exhaust yourself.

She turned to look at his profile in the dark. His mouth was drawn in a grim line of determination.

Her voice caught as she whispered, "This is all my fault."

She jumped at the vehemence in his reply, "No! This is Anthony's fault. The responsibility is his."

Henry was pushing the car at well past the speed limits and was maneuvering expertly over the road's wet surface. Jenny had said that the cabin was perhaps two and a half hours north of Windemere. He intended to make it in considerably less time, and wanted to take full advantage of the paved surface of the highway before the gravel of the smaller roads through the woods forced him to a slower pace.

He could hear that her heart beat had slowed now that they were moving but he could see when he glanced her way that she sat with her shoulders hunched and she was dry washing her hands over and over in her lap.

Finally Jenny spoke, "I don't know what I will do if he has hurt Lily. She is all that I have. We have always been so close; I was always her big sister watching out for her." She sighed and continued, "Then after I got away from Anthony, I was so confused and I just couldn't think straight. Lily was there for me. She helped me and protected me." She smiled the slightest of smiles, "I can't tell you how many nosey gossips she chased away, when I first came home." She covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes brimming with tears."

"We'll find her," Henry told her.

"Tell me about yourself Henry, talk to me so that I don't have to think about…please."

Henry nodded and drew a deep breath. "I was born at the town of Blackmore, Essex in the year 1519. I am the bastard son of…."

***

"…and so I paint her portrait every year, somehow it seems to help." At some point during his dissertation Jenny's hand had crept across the seat and he had grasped it in his own. He disengaged his fingers from hers now as he turned the car off the paved surface onto a gravel road where Jenny indicated.

"It is ten miles along here and then a left to another smaller private logging road that runs nearly five miles into the cabin."

Henry took out his watch and flipped the cover open; just slightly after two. They had made good time so far and thankfully the gravel road had recently been graded so it was in decent condition.

***

"Here! Turn left here," Jenny said… she had been sitting forward in the seat for almost ten minutes now searching for where the two roads connected. The car swerved on the wet gravel as Henry hit the brakes, almost over-shooting the turn. He wrestled the car into the narrow opening and the high beams illuminated a narrow and rutted track through what appeared to be an impenetrable forest of scrub pine. He was forced to reduce his speed as the car bounced along through deep puddles.

At length Jenny sat forward in the seat and said in a whisper as though she were afraid of being overheard, "This is it," indicating a short driveway and a cabin set far back from the road. There were lights on in the cabin's windows even though the time was close to three in the morning.

Henry pulled the car to a halt a distance down the drive from the house and turned off the engine.

The silence was complete once the engine died. He turned to Jenny as she started to open her door.

"Stay with me," he said. "Stay close to me."

He listened carefully and then said to Jenny, "They are in the cabin, both of them. Lily is alive."

"How can you know that?" Jenny said, hardly daring to believe.

"I can hear their hearts beating," he said. What he didn't tell her was that the heartbeat that he identified as Lily was beating erratically as though she were completely terrified.

As they stood clear of the car, Jenny came around to stand beside Henry.

A long beam of light shone out along the ground as the door of the cabin swung noisily open.


	22. Chapter 22

"Shut up, you stupid bitch!" he shouted into Lily's terrified face.

He backhanded her, hard across her cheek and she ceased her moaning against the gag, though the tears continued to fall from her eyes. She twisted her hands in her bonds, where they were pulled tight behind her back, but she could do nothing to loosen them.

Anthony took her by the chin and whispered into her face, "That's better." He spread apart the flapping front of her shirt and ran his hand down over her bare breasts, then laid his fingertips on the small pattern of burns he had made on her belly.

Her eyes widened as he watched and she huffed small exhalations of air around the edges of the gag that cut cruelly into her skin.

He brought his hands back up and cupped her breasts tenderly. "It's all her fault," he whispered. "She's to blame."

Anthony pushed her roughly away from him and she fell heavily to one side on the floor. She drew up her legs, and heels slipping on the floor, she tried to scrabble into the corner of the small room, attempting to put as much distance as she could between herself and her tormentor.

Anthony ignored her for the moment. She wasn't the one he wanted, but she was the one who would bring Jenny to him.

He had told the bitch over and over what he would do if she left him. But she was too stupid to believe him. Now she would see. When she got here, he'd make her watch.

He peered out through the droplets running down the glass of the window into the impenetrable wet dark.

She'd be here soon, he told himself with a grim smile. She'd find his little "note" when she got home from work and then she would know. She would know…that she had to do what he said.

His fingers dropped to caress the gun that lay loaded and ready on the table. He liked the feel of the cool grey metal under his hand. If she brought the pretty boy with her, that was all the better. He was ready.

It was perhaps twenty minutes later; he heard the crunch of gravel and saw the flare of the white headlights in the drive.

***

Anthony took hold of one of Lily's arms, squeezing cruelly, and pulled her roughly to her to her feet. She stumbled, dizzy under the influence of shock. He shook her impatiently.

"Behave yourself…" he hissed in her ear and he started dragging her towards the door.

Though he had ripped open her shirt, cut away her bra and lowered the zipper of her jeans, he had not removed her other clothing or shoes.

She was damned if she was going to give up without a fight. She knew what he would do to Jenny. Lily knew that she was as good as dead, if he got hold of Jenny. She dug in her heels and suddenly let her full weight fall against his hold.

He nearly lost his balance as she swung to the side however Anthony managed to stay upright. He wrapped his hand in her hair and yanked her head back until she was bent painfully over his arm. He looked into her eyes.

"I'm going to slit your throat," he said pleasantly. Then he pulled her upright, and picking up the gun, made for the door.

Pulling the latch, he pushed Lily in front of him out the door.

***

Henry held the vampire in check, as he saw Lily pushed out through the door of the cabin.

Jenny uttered a horrified cry. At the edge of his peripheral vision he saw her start forward. Keeping his eyes on Lily and the man who had emerged behind her, he swung one arm out to prevent her passage as he growled, "Stay with me." He dropped slightly to a protective stance.

The cool air around him swirled with their scents, with their emotions, rage and hatred, fear and lust. The energy that swirled in the air skittered along his skin with the threat of violence. It provoked an answer in him that had nothing to do with the vampire.

The male had a gun in his hand and he held the barrel against Lily's head. She stood trembling in his grasp. Her arms were bound behind her and her chest bared to her waist. Henry could see the angry red burn on her abdomen and with an indrawn breath he clamped down unmercifully on the rage that threatened to overcome him.

Lily's eyes were rimmed in white above the gag covering her mouth. She made a loud and broken murmuring sound behind the gag that could have been either an entreaty or a warning. Henry could feel her terror radiating off her in waves.

Anthony lifted the gun away from her briefly and shook her roughly. "Shut up!"

Henry started forward, but Anthony brought the gun back to her temple and said,

"Well, well, well…Jenny, I see that you've brought your pretty boy with you."

And then redirecting his gaze to Henry said, "I don't know what you see in the whore."

Henry held his hands out open at his sides. He was fast but he knew he could not reach Anthony before he pulled the trigger. He wasn't willing to sacrifice Lily's life. He needed to wait and watch for his opportunity.

"Jenny, get your ass over here now!" Anthony bawled.

It was as though she could not resist him and she scuttled past Henry.

He moved to stop her but then was forced to a halt when Anthony hoisted Lily up higher, with the gun still touching her temple.

"Don't!" Anthony said, in a voice that dared Henry to try.

The rain had begun again and was drenching them all as they stood in the muddy yard of the cabin. It had soaked the uniform that Jenny wore and the material clung wet to her spare frame, molded against her thighs as she moved haltingly towards him. Her hair was plastered wet against her skull and her eyes were dark and huge in her face.

"You stupid bitch," he said as she approached him, "this is all your fault."

"I know," she said, "I know it's all my fault…Anthony please, please let her go." Her arms were held out in front of her in entreaty and she trembled violently. Her voice spoke of abject surrender as she begged for her sister's life and yet Henry could see from where he stood her aura billowing around her as she drew in her determination to face her fear.

She had moved close enough to him now. He threw Lily aside and reached out and grabbed Jenny by the wrist. He pulled her to him holding the gun to her side. Lily lay in the mud at his feet.

"I am afraid I can't do that Jenny," he said against her throat. "You have to learn…"

"Say goodbye to your pretty boy…"

Henry saw the muscles in his shoulder tense and he started to move as Anthony swung the gun out towards him.

"No!" Jenny cried as she pushed against Anthony as hard as she could. He stumbled backwards and as he tripped over Lily at his feet…he fired.

Henry felt the bullet as a white heat, as it passed through his side just above his hip.

The world grayed as he watched the slow tilt of the rain-soaked landscape until he felt his shoulder and then his cheek come into contact with the ground.

He struggled to hold on to the sliver of the night he could see, as the edges of his vision blurred out of focus and the momentary blankness of shock gave way to the pain that blossomed in his body.

He felt himself convulse once around the center of that agony. He could scent nothing but the wet earth and his own blood.

_Hold on,_ he told himself, _hold on,_ and he called his will to force the nothingness back.

***

Henry wanted to rest, he wanted to find his sanctuary and lie back on the bed. He wanted to drift until the day dragged him down. There was an insistent bothersome noise. He knew it meant something. It was important, _it meant_…

The night flowed back around him, cold and wet, he was momentarily puzzled. _Why was he lying on the ground in the rain?_ He could hear a man's voice, shouting angry and loud…

His hand trailed weakly up to his side_, he was hungry_.

He recognized the crawling, pins and needles sensation of his body healing from the inside out. He could feel the drain on his resources as his flesh renewed itself.

_There were words_…words in the shouting and he forced himself over on to his stomach. He lifted his head and he could see a woman… _Jenny_…her aura was brilliant in the dark. She was crouched protectively over, someone…_Lily_…on the ground. A man had a hold on her arm and was twisting it backwards and pulling her to her feet…_he is hurting her_…he could hear the words the male was shouting.

"Stupid bitch! You'll pay for that. I'll make you watch. Did you think that your pretty boy could protect you? Get over here."

_It's wrong, wrong he thought…he's hurting…_and then suddenly he returned to himself in a rush.

Henry drew his hands beneath his chest and using his forearms levered himself up to his knees. His eyes on the man he ignored the sudden stab of pain in his side.

Anthony had his back to Henry as he shook Jenny by her arm. Henry saw Jenny's eyes widen slightly and he knew that she had seen him struggle to his hands and knees.

He got his feet beneath him and stood swaying for a moment. His body was covered with mud and his clothes bloodied. He was soaked to the skin, the water dripping down his neck and in his eyes. He stood with his legs spread apart as he steadied himself.

He pulled the vampire to the surface, welcomed him, and used the hunger that bloomed within him as fuel. He fed that need to the human rage within him. His eyes darkened and he felt the promise of blood as his fangs descended. The vampire in Henry wanted blood, he needed to feed. The human in Henry wanted vengeance.

"What the fuck are you looking at bitch?" Anthony said as he started to turn…

"Fuck you, you bastard!" she all but screamed in his ear, and brought up her knee to his groin, in an effort to keep his attention off Henry.

He turned back to her and drew his free arm back as he closed his fist. "Whore! you will…" The blow never fell.

On the ground, Lily, with her eyes wide and terrified, began to scream behind the gag.


	23. Chapter 23

_On the ground Lily, with her eyes wide and terrified, began to scream behind the gag._

_***_

Henry's hand closed on Anthony's wrist. He could feel the slick wetness of Anthony's skin and the give of the flesh beneath as he tightened his grasp to a bruising degree.

Anthony dropped his hold on Jenny with a bellow and began to desperately grab at the grip of the gun he had pushed into the waistband of his pants.

Henry, increasing the pressure of his grip on Anthony's wrist, began to pull the struggling human around to face him.

Anthony grunted at the pain in his arm and wrist and his hand stopped scrabbling at his waist as he brought it up to try to free himself from that punishing grip. As he was turning past her, Jenny reached out and retrieved the gun from Anthony's belt.

Henry spun the male around to face him with the easy grace of the ballet. Once he could see the human's face, Henry brought up his other hand and took Anthony by the throat.

Once again the slick wet living skin and the flow of the blood beneath registered under his touch. Henry could feel the rattling vibration of the air passing through the throat. Effortlessly Henry extended his arm and lifted his prey slightly, until the tips of his toes just brushed the muddy earth.

_Only the slightest brush, not enough to allow him to rest his weight,_ thought Henry, the weight which now hung suspended by his iron grip under Anthony's jaw. The human hung eyes wide and mouth gasping, wriggling in the air as though he was a trout on the hook. One of his hands was at his own throat, his fingers clawing in a futile effort to free himself. His other was stretched out to his side in a vise-like, punishing grip.

There was no effort showing on Henry's face when he turned to look at Jenny. The familiar trace of sibilance was in his speech as he said, "Take Lily inside. Get her out of the rain Jenny. She needs your help."

When he turned his face back to Anthony his lips lifted in the fey smile of the predator.

***

Jenny could not believe her eyes when she saw Henry lever himself to his feet.

Her heart soared suddenly with relief. She had thought he was dead, she had thought that Anthony had killed him despite her best effort to stop him.

It was dark and raining and although he was soaked and muddied, she could clearly see the darker stain spread across his abdomen and her mind flew back to watching him heal in the firelight.

She saw him sway on his feet and wondered how he could stay upright, but in a moment or two he seemed to steady. Anthony had been shaking her and she felt sick and terrified.

She heard his voice as he started to turn away. "What the fuck are you looking at bitch?"

Lily was on her side on the ground and she was suddenly still. Then her eyes widened and the she started to take short huffing breaths behind the gag.

Jenny thought _I can't let Anthony see him; I have to give him the time he needs._

"Fuck you, you bastard," she screamed in Anthony's ear and brought up her knee, with as much force as she could muster, to his groin.

She flinched away as he turned to her and drew his free arm back in the air above him. She watched as he closed his fingers into a fist. _How_ _many times had she watched this happen__?_ she thought. His face was flushed and angry as he shouted, "Whore! You will…"

She saw pale fingers close around Anthony's wrist and it simply stopped in mid air.

She heard Lily begin to scream, the sound a wrenching and impotent protest muffled behind the gag. Her eyes were fixed on Henry where he appeared behind Anthony.

Even having seen Henry transform before, the effect was shocking. He was beautiful and terrible at the same time. The moist ebony darkness of his eyes was cold and ethereal in his dripping face and his mouth worked slightly as his fangs emerged in a deadly, deathly smile.

He looked like an elemental birthed from the earth, the rain and the night. He was covered with water and blood and soil.

_It's Henry, it's Henry,_ she reminded herself, grasping for and then clinging to the memory of that other eager smile.

She felt Anthony let go of her arm and she dropped down to get between Anthony and Lily, where she lay bound and mud spattered on the ground. Jenny could still hear those horrible muffled screams tearing from her lungs.

Anthony was bellowing as he scrabbled with his free had for the gun tucked in his waist band. The bellowing stopped and Jenny could see that somehow Henry was forcing Anthony to turn towards him. Anthony grunted as he shifted his hand up to try desperately to loosen the grasp that Henry had on his wrist.

She saw her opportunity and darted in to pull the gun out of Anthony's belt.

She dropped her eyes to Lily who was shaking her head back and forth in a frenzied denial.

"It's all right," Jenny whispered, as she shielded her sister with her body. "It's still Henry, it's only Henry."

When she looked back, Henry was holding Anthony by the throat up off the ground with one hand and holding Anthony's other arm, still grasped at the wrist, away from his body. Anthony was making a dreadful rasping choking noise and his eyes were trained in horror on Henry's face.

Henry's face turned down to her and there was the same slight sibilance in his voice as she had heard the night before. His eyes unreadable, he said, "Take Lily inside. Get her out of the rain, Jenny. She needs your help."

Jenny helped Lily to her feet and sheltered her in her arms. She began to struggle towards the door, Lily craning her neck to keep her eyes trained on Henry. "It's just Henry," Jenny whispered as much for her own benefit as Lily's, as she swung open the door and supported her as they moved into the cabin. "It's just Henry, he would never hurt us."

The light from the door that was splayed across the ground at their feet slowly diminished as Jenny pushed the door closed. In the silence Henry heard the bolt slide home.

Henry smiled. They were alone in the night.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Break***

Even if he were human he would have been able to perceive the scent of terror that was emanating from Anthony. The air was redolent with his fear; even the heavy rain falling could not dispel the distinctive cloying scent.

_The vampire that was Henry wanted blood, the life giving substance that shifted and flowed through the creature that hung in his grasp. The vampire cared nothing for the laws of man, justice or injustice. The vampire, in hunger, was a being of absolutes; his desires were defined and uncluttered by moral or religious dilemma. The vampire desired that which this creature could create that he could not. He hungered, was lacking, wanted to take into himself that which he required…life._

_The human that was Henry, wanted…vengeance. The creature that hung in his grasp was evil, vile, an insult to the laws of God and man. The things he had done, to the innocent, to the weak, required that a recompense be exacted. This creature had inflicted terror and pain; he had robbed Jenny of her sense of self, he had stolen who she was little by little for his own pleasure. Unhappy in his own life, he had stolen the life of another. He fouled everything around him with his wickedness. What he would have done tonight to Jenny, to Lily…the very thought made the rage inside Henry burn hotter. This creature must do penance for his sins. The idea that God could use a vampire, child of the night, as his angel of vengeance troubled Henry not a whit._

_Henry forced the vampire in him alongside of his human wants and desires. He bound the vampire to his rage. He would use the vampire to gain the vengeance that his heart demanded. He stoked the fire of his anger, fueling it with the vampire's elemental hunger until it burned as a brilliant blue flame, as brilliant a blue as the eyes of the human mask he forced over his features._

As he turned Anthony's face towards himself, Henry lowered Anthony so that his feet were touching the ground. He did not loosen the hold on his throat. He bent Anthony's arm at the elbow, bringing the wrist imprisoned in his hand to Anthony's chest.

When the human's feet touched the ground he began to twist and buck in a panicked attempt to free himself. Henry's grip was intractable. After a few moments the human ceased his struggles and slumped wheezing and trembling in Henry's grasp.

Henry held his countenance impassive as he trained his eyes on Anthony's face. He sent out the vampire's will, _look at me._ Anthony's eyes were drawn inexorably to his blue eyed gaze. Henry smiled, a cold and fragile veneer, icy over the furnace of his heart.

"Jenny has told me so much about you," Henry said conversationally, his voice pleasantly modulated, a mockery of the nightmare situation.

Anthony's eyes were wide and round and he struggled for breath, his fingers now locked around the wrist of the hand Henry held at his throat. A painful groan was all that emerged as he worked his lips.

Henry cocked his head to one side, still smiling slightly and inquired, "Too tight?" as he glanced to his hand encircling Anthony's throat.

Anthony stared into his face. Henry loosened his grip slightly and the human's air flow was increased.

"Your pardon," Henry said and then asked solicitously, "Is that better?"

"J-Jenny…told you?" Anthony wheezed in a broken whisper.

Henry replied, his tone amiable, "Oh yes, she told me all kinds of things about you. She said you were a smoker…filthy habit really, but Jenny took particular care to share with me how much you loved your cigarettes…" by the time he had finished speaking, the word cigarettes had emerged as an angry hiss.

Anthony began to struggle again as Henry drew his face closer. Their eyes were only inches apart as Henry whispered his accusation, "She loved you…"

Henry drew back and his face briefly evidenced anger and disgust. Anthony began to whimper and thrash as Henry discarded the mask, though try as he might he could not look away. Henry held tight to the vampire, as his eyes darkened and his fangs lengthened, bending him to his human will.

With an unrelenting pressure he bought Anthony's wrist close to his lips. He twisted the human's arm painfully and exposed to his eyes the branched blue veins that stood in high relief above his grasp. His attention focused on the net of life that flowed below the surface. He allowed his lips to touch the resilient surface of the wet skin.

_The vampire lunged forward, anxious for what he required, yet Henry held himself back, wait he pleaded with himself, I must have what I need…_

Anthony was shouting now as he braced his free hand against Henry's chest and pushed with all his strength. "What are you, what the fuck are you? No…no, please don't. Stop!"

Henry turned his black gaze to meet Anthony's bulging eyes and then back to the flesh so close to his lips.

"I am vengeance," he said and then opened his mouth.

Henry bit once, hard and mercilessly, sinking his fangs to the gum line on one side of Anthony's arm.

For a moment he could not resist and his lips molded themselves to the bite as the vampire began to draw on that which it desired.

He could hear Anthony shrieking and that shrill, pained sound fired his resolve.

_Henry held the vampire close, wait…not yet!_

He tore his fangs through the flesh of Anthony's forearm severing muscle and blood vessels alike.

The shrieking became a ragged scream as Henry lifted his head away from the wound, Anthony's blood coating his lips and chin. Raising his head to the heavens he felt the cold rain pour down on him.

He released his hold on Anthony and the human fell back to the ground. One hand clamped over the wound, he pushed with his heels in the mud trying to get himself back and away from Henry.

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck…" his shout trailed to a whimper as he felt the warmth of his blood fill his hand and dribble past his fingers to the ground.

_The scent of his blood was like a living entity in the air and the vampire writhed in his grasp trying to answer its siren song. Henry held firm…not yet!_

Henry's dark eyes watched Anthony where he huddled on the ground. He drew his sleeve across his lips and chin, wiping away the remnants of the blood. He licked his lips. Wiping his palms on his soaking clothes he pulled his watch from his pocket. He flicked it open. The face read 3:48. He didn't need the watch to know that he still had a little time.

_Anthony watched the…thing from where he sat on the ground. It was the devil he thought, the priests had warned him that the devil would come for him some day. God! His arm hurt. He was gonna get killed. _

_He moaned to himself and pulled his injured arm to his chest. Oh God…oh God…the blood! This was Jenny's fault, she should never have told, if she had just kept her mouth shut. _He whimpered as he watched the monster drag its sleeve across its mouth. It took a watch from its pocket.

_Fuck! _Anthony thought._ What the fuck! It just bit a chunk out of me and now it was checking the fucking the time!_

Henry looked at the cowering human before him. The predator smiled, a long, slow baring of his fangs.

"You may have two minutes," Henry said.

Anthony's mouth opened and then closed, no sound emerged. Finally, his chin quivering, he whimpered,

"W-What?"

"I will allow you to run for two minutes, before I begin to pursue you," Henry clarified.

He looked at his watch, and then back to the human, "beginning now!"

Henry snapped his watch closed, returning it to his pocket. The human sat regarding him disbelievingly from the muddy ground, blinking as the rain drenched his face.

***

Anthony sat dumbstruck as the rain fell, staring at the monster in front of him, the blood still oozing between his fingers as he held them clamped over the ragged bite. One second it was standing in front of him soaked in the dark and the next instant it was gone. _What the hell…_

"What…" Anthony felt himself dragged to his feet by the bruising grip of two icy hands on his upper arms. The thing was behind him and he tried to swivel his head around. He was suddenly in agony as he felt those fangs plunge into his shoulder, ripping down and across his back.

***

Henry grasped the human by the shoulders and pulled him upright. He sank his fangs again in the flesh of his shoulder. This time he did not pause to drink but simply ripped sideways across the human's back. The echo of the scream had not yet subsided when Henry brought his bloodied lips to Anthony's ear.

"You have one minute and forty seconds. Run!"

Henry gave the human a shove forward and he stumbled, putting out his wounded arm to save himself from falling. Henry could see the white surrounding his eyes when he looked over his shoulder as he began to scramble away into the trees.

As the vampire watched his prey stumble away into the silent forest he yearned to give chase.

Fleeing prey always evoked the strongest of instinctive responses in the predator and for a moment, Henry gave thanks to his creator.

_Anthony would die, as was just, and eventually he would allow the vampire to feed, once his human desires were satisfied._

_***_

Jenny had picked up Anthony's knife and cut Lily's bonds as soon as they had entered the cabin. She believed that she had some intention of rushing out to assist Henry but Lily had immediately surged into her arms.

Jenny hugged her as over Lily's shoulder, she stared out through the window to the yard of the cabin. Lily's skin was icy against her and she was trembling violently in her embrace. Jenny knew she should be getting a blanket and warming her and yet she could not seem to drag her eyes away from the scene that was unfolding, out in the rainy darkness beyond the glass.

"Shhhh," she soothed her, "You're safe now, Shhhh." She repeated this again and again as she stroked Lily's wet hair, and watched with wide eyes as Henry lifted Anthony's wrist to his lips. She heard Anthony screaming as Henry cast him down to the ground.

She saw Henry take out his pocket watch as though to check the time. As he stood over Anthony he put the watch back in his pocket. He seemed to disappear in a blur and then reappear behind Anthony. Henry hauled him to his feet and she saw him bite Anthony's shoulder. Anthony's scream was absorbed among the trees. Lily stiffened in her arms at the sound and Jenny rocked her slightly from side to side. "Shhhh"

Even from here she could see the darker stain of the blood spreading across the back of Anthony's shirt as he stumbled away into the trees.

Henry stood stock still where he was for what seemed a long time to Jenny, then in a blur of motion he was gone, into the trees.

"Come on Lil," Jenny said as matter-of-factly as she could manage. "Let's get cleaned up, I'll boil some water."

****

_I'm a dead man, I'm a dead man,_ Anthony thought as he scrambled away through the trees. His back was on fire with a hot agony. It was drier under the trees and he knew that the warm moisture running down his back was his own blood.

_One minute and forty seconds, that thing had said. It would wait one minute and forty seconds and then it was coming after him again. I don't want to die…please please, Oh God…._

His breath rattled in dry gasps through his bruised throat. _It was coming, he knew it was coming! _He crashed through the trees in headlong flight, mindless of the branches and snags that caught at his clothing. It was dark and the shadows all held a terrible threat. He could hear his heart pounding in his exertion. He thought, _if I could just make it out of the trees on to the road then maybe…_

He glanced back. _Oh God! The thing was right behind him! _His skin crawled as he felt sure he would feel those cool fingers close on his body at any second.

He risked another glance over his shoulder and lost his footing as he tripped over a fallen trunk. He fell half over the log, and the thing was on him. He flung up his arm in front of his face, "No, no, don't…"

***

Henry saw the obstacle in the human's way and as Anthony's terrified face appeared glancing back, he saw his prey go down. Henry was on him in a moment.

He effortlessly rolled him over on his back against the fallen trunk and allowed the vampire a moment of respite, to immerse himself in the pleasure of the racing blood, the heaving chest, the thundering heart and the terrified eyes. The human flung his arm up as though to protect his throat.

Henry reined back the vampire and batting the arm out of the way breathed against Anthony's throat.

"Not yet, not yet. That was too easy. You need to learn. You need to learn to watch where you are going."

Anthony lay frozen in terror, his eyes wide and his breath coming in short gasps as Henry slipped down along the length of his body, holding his prey in place with one hand. Henry hovered with his face above Anthony's thigh until he was sure that the human knew what he intended. When he heard the moan and the whispered entreaty, "No, no, don't…" then he inflicted a punishingly deep bite, tearing through material and skin, fat and muscle to the femoral artery pulsing beneath. The artery tore under his fangs and the resulting pulsing flood of blood drenched his chin and neck. He made no attempt to feed. He swung his face up to Anthony and then hauled him to his feet. He shook him. "Not yet," he said.

Anthony, his face white with shock, swayed to one side when Henry released him. He looked down, his pant leg black with his own blood in the dimness.

_I'm bleeding out, _he thought_, I'm a dead man. It's all her fault, it's all her fault…_

"_Run!_" he heard the command as the black eyes loomed in front of his face. The creatures lips never moved but he heard the command and his legs began to stir."_Run_"

***

Anthony ran without thought or direction, crashing through the trees. His body obeyed a will other than his own.

He ran as his lungs burned and no matter how he gasped he could not pull in enough oxygen.

He ran as the edges of his vision darkened as though he was running down a tunnel.

He ran as his heart was a constant pulsing, pain in his chest.

He fell…but he was not allowed to rest and he scrambled to his feet and staggered on and on…

***

Henry heard when the heart first began to falter; there was not enough blood left in his system to keep the body oxygenated. Anthony was dying.

He released his compulsion and the human dropped to the ground in a boneless heap.

Henry pulled him to his feet and held him propped against a tree trunk. Anthony's arms hung loose and his head lolled to the side. The vampire was supporting his weight.

He was slipping away when he heard the command and he had to obey.

_Look at me_.

Anthony opened his eyes and the creature looked directly into his face. "I have killed you," he said.

Anthony nodded, dull in his agreement; he wanted to know _why…why was he dying? _

"Why?" he breathed the question.

"Because she loved you," was the response.

Henry could hear the heart falter. There was so little time and he could not drink the blood of the dead.

He released the constraint he held on the vampire. In a moment the hot flow filled his mouth; he drew on the bite mercilessly, swallowing as quickly as he could, while the human's life ebbed.

When the heart stopped a moment later he withdrew his fangs and allowed the body to drop to the ground.

***

It was not enough and the hunger twisted inside him. He looked to the sky. The dawn was not far off. He turned and started back to the cabin…


	25. Chapter 25

He dragged the human's body a short distance to a shallow bramble filled ravine. He could hear the murmuring of the small stream at its bottom. He grunted in pain as bending, he rolled the body over the edge of the ravine and watched as Anthony, with the boneless grace of the dead, tumbled down to rest among the brambles. As isolated as this area was, Henry hoped that the body would remain undiscovered, at least long enough for the elements and the animals to have their way. Then should it ever be found there would be no remaining evidence.

The sun was coming; he could feel it as he straightened, groaning, though the familiar warning was overpowered beneath the clamoring hunger. The rain had slowed to a misting drizzle and the forest was his quiet and dripping witness. The small creatures that had been silenced by the violence of his confrontation with Anthony were beginning to rouse to the pre-dawn air.

The wound in his side had been healing but he had exhausted all his resources. Now with the bloodlust of pursuit cooling, he found himself in a weakened and sickened state. He needed blood to heal, more blood than Anthony had provided. He could feel the burning pain where his exertions had ruptured the half healed gunshot wound. His filthy shirt clung with an alarming wetness to his side.

With one arm clutched against his body he made as much speed as he could, but the terrain was rough and he had chased Anthony far further that he had initially anticipated. The forest was a wall of tree trunks, stretching away in all directions around him. The sky was beginning to brighten above the branches overhead. Night was retreating.

He sent out his senses ahead of him, he could hear the wind and the rain whispering in the branches. He could hear the creatures of the night scurrying to their daytime shelters. He could hear the creatures of the day stirring in anticipation of their renewed existence.

If he opened himself completely, he could hear the refrain of her heart's beating. He found it and focused his attention on her. He made for that sound; he pulled his will around him and her pulse became a beacon. Closing the distance between them became his only directive. He pushed himself onward with the threat of the sun at his back.

He was stumbling and gasping for breath as he came to the tree line edging the clearing in front of the cabin. He knew that the wound in his side was opened and was oozing blood, but he could not spare the energy or attention to look.

His attention was solely focused on the heartbeat in the cabin that he could hear clearly over his ragged breathing. He kept his focus on it, ignoring the knowledge that the rising sun was at his heels. To admit to that knowledge meant panic, and he could not afford panic now.

He staggered into the clearing. The birds were beginning their daily choir and he could hear them in the trees. He forced one foot in front of the other as the cabin drew closer at a torturously slow pace. The lethargy of the dawn was overcoming him and he clung to the sound of her heart beat.

One more step, another. He closed his eyes. One more step. He halted, swaying…he could hear her heart…thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump...his lips bowed in a tender smile, his eyes closed against the brightening dawn. One more step…

He felt his shoulder collide with the weathered wood of the cabin door and he slid slowly down it to the ground. His face was to the coming day as his back rested against the wood. He could feel the warning of the first blush of heat across his skin. He called to her, "Jenny."

***

Her chest rising and falling slowly, Lily lay with eyes closed on the bed. Jenny had watched as she had finally drifted off to sleep and the low inhalation and exhalation of her breath was lulling. She patted Lily's hand gently when she rose from her seat on the bed's edge, and then moved across to the kitchen. She looked at the clock face and saw that the time was almost five; she was…worried for Henry. It was the next thing to dawn. Hadn't he told her that the sun was deadly to him?

She went to the window and looked out at the clearing in front of the cabin; she had no doubt that Henry would have been able to subdue Anthony. She saw the night beginning to fade above the trees. _Where was he?_

Then there was a movement in the trees and he was suddenly there. Disheveled and filthy he braced himself, leaning heavily on a tree trunk. He had halted at the forest's edge, holding one arm curled tight against his side and she saw immediately the bright red stain blooming underneath.

Her mind flew back to the images of what she had witnessed earlier.

_She saw him again soaked and bloodied in the dark, his hand on Anthony's throat as he held him dangling in the air. _

_She saw again the cold impassive face and the black, blank-eyed gaze as he had told her to take Lily inside. _

_She remembered the scene that she had watched through the window as he'd brought Anthony's arm to his lips and she remembered Anthony's shrieks as Henry had bitten him. _

_She could not forget the shocking ferocity with which he had initially fed, his jaw working as his head bent over Anthony's arm. She remembered the gushing blood as he had pulled away tossing Anthony to the ground. _

_He had appeared as an avenging angel in the night, her dark and savage protector. _

_She had felt that there had been something cold and retributive in his stance, some terrible and barely suppressed fury that had frightened her then and frightened her now. _

_He had pulled Anthony up and bitten his shoulder viciously. She remembered the same spreading dark stain on Anthony's shirt. _

Leaving the shelter of the trees, he began to stagger across the clearing; she could see that he was weak and in pain. She could see from where she stood at the window his chest rise and fall, laboring to draw in a deep breath as though his lungs did not seem to want to work. She saw him stumble to a stop within a few feet of the door and he swayed alarmingly on his feet.

Jenny wanted to help him, her heart told her to fling open the door and run to him, to bring him into shelter.

Her fear told her to hide safely behind the bolted door. She needed to keep Lily safe, she needed to keep herself safe.

She had seen what Henry truly was last night, that he was more than the mysterious and charming stranger, more than what he had told her.

He had confessed to her that he was a vampire and had even given her some information about what that entailed, but until last night, she had not realized what it meant.

_He was a dangerous and bloodthirsty creature who fed on humans; he might turn on them..._

She watched as Henry cocked his head to one side, he appeared to be listening to something. A tender smile bowed the lips in that bloodstained face and Jenny's heart contracted. It was his smile, his smile, how could she have doubted?

She realized with sudden terror that it was becoming light outside, the dawn was upon him. He took one more step and then another, his eyes squinted shut against the world.

Her hands were scrabbling on the bolt when his body hit the door.

She was pulling the door open when he called her name, "Jenny."

****

Henry felt the surface he was leaning on give way behind him and he slid onto his back as the support was withdrawn. He could hear her; he could hear her heart so close. He breathed in her scent, the scent of her blood. He felt her hands on him pulling him through the door. He heard the door slam and understood that he was inside the cabin.

The sun was pressing on him unmercifully now, outweighing even the hunger. The day was dragging him down and down. Jenny's face swam into view and he clutched feebly at her arm. He could hear a shrill voice shouting about monsters and devils, though he could make no sense of, or context for, the words.

"…the Sun," he whispered.

He heard Jenny say quite distinctly, "Lily shut up!" and then the darkness loomed and he began to drift. He willed his attention to the feel of her flesh, warm on his arms.

Then her voice again, sharp edged with…worry? "At least hold the door open for me." He felt his body being dragged and his head fell forward, his chin on his chest, his nostrils full of the scent of Anthony's blood where it had soaked his shirt.

"It's all right, I've got you." He heard her voice in his ear, though he could not summon the control to open his eyes.

He felt himself stretched on the floor, and suddenly his senses were full of her again as with her hands on either side of his face she leaned in close. "You'll be safe here, it's dark in this closet, Anthony used to lock me…" The world went away.


	26. Chapter 26

"You'll be safe here; it's dark in this closet. Anthony used to lock me in here sometimes so I know that it is really, really…dark." Jenny said. Her brow furrowed as she heard him exhale a long slow breath.

Jenny could feel the life drain away from his flesh as she held his face between her hands. She thought for a panicked moment that he had died, but then his words floated into her mind.

_We are nocturnal beings and are...dormant during the day; the sunlight is deadly to us._ Dormant. She backed away from Henry's body where she had laid him in the farthest reaches of the closet. With her eyes fixed on the perfect stillness of that bloodied and beautiful stranger she withdrew. Her hand met the door frame and she reached for the handle and pulled the door closed.

She sank down in the dimness with her back against the closet door, her legs bent close to her chest and her arms resting on her knees.

"_Dormant during the day…"_ The very strangeness of the situation crowded in on her. She had no yardstick, nothing to compare this to. She felt lost and confused and unable to still the thought circling around and around in her head.

Lily came across the room and knelt in front of her. "Jen are you all right? That…thing, didn't hurt you, did it?" Lily asked as she laid a shaking hand on Jenny's arm.

"Don't, don't call him that! Do you hear me?" Jenny snapped back, suddenly angry.

"Don't you call him that. He saved our lives last night. Don't you know what Anthony would have done? Henry would never hurt us, never!"

She was adamant and yet her mind was filled with the image of his throat working as his head bent over Anthony's arm.She remembered the gushing blood as he had pulled away, his face awash with gore.

Lily's voice was timid but she pressed her sister for an answer. "How can you be so sure of that Jenny? I don't even know what he is; I have never seen anything like that in my life. Aren't you afraid?"

_Yes! I am afraid, I'm very afraid because I don't know what to do,_ she thought.

Jenny tiredly patted the floor beside her with one hand and Lily sank down until she was sitting at Jenny's side. She gingerly leaned her back against the closet door. She was drawing on Jenny's confidence, even though she feared there was a monster on the other side.

Jenny began, "I knew what he was, and he had already shown me. I swore that I wouldn't tell his secret Lily, even to you. But he has shown himself to you now, so I guess he won't mind if I tell you what I know."

It was the better part of an hour later that Jenny had outlined what she knew of Henry's history and his vampirism to Lily.

Lily had at first listened in silent disbelief to Jenny's soft voice, the only sound in the quiet cabin. The sun had broken through the remaining clouds and was now well into the sky. There were yellow shafts of sunlight pouring through the cabin's small paned windows, painting a moving pattern on the floor.

Jenny knew that Lily had accepted what she was saying when Lily began to question her.

"So this Christina made Henry into a vampire?" she asked.

"Yes," Jenny nodded, "but he wanted her to do it; he said that he loved her."

"And he is dormant during the day, and the sun will kill him? So if we opened the door of the closet now...?"

"We're not going to Lily," Jenny said quickly. She heard Henry's voice in her mind, _"We very seldom reveal the place where we rest during the day, we are at our most vulnerable to attack then."_

"I wasn't saying we would Jen I was just thinking out loud. He looked like he was hurt, when you brought him in here." Lily's sympathetic heart overrode her fear. "Maybe he needs our help," she said suddenly.

Jenny thought to herself. _This is so typical of Lily. First she decided that he was a monster and wanted nothing to do with him, and now having found evidence to the contrary she accepted him totally and was worrying about ways to help him._

Lily was one of the smartest most self contained people Jenny knew and she really saw everything as black or white, good or bad. In this case Jenny wished that she had Lily's decisive nature.

Lily continued, her concern evident, as though to make up for her earlier fear. "If we block of all the windows and the doors and then hang a blanket over the closet door, couldn't we open the closet enough to go in and check on him?"

Jenny hesitated, her concern for Henry's well being at war with her memory of how pale and still the vampire had been when she left him.

"I am not sure he would want that Lil," Jenny said.

Lily was already climbing to her feet, ready to go to the bed. "Well if he's dormant," she said over her shoulder, "then how is he going to know? The least we can do is to give him a pillow and a blanket Jen."

In the end, all the windows and doors were covered. The closet door was tented in blankets. Jenny and Lily had lit the lamps while they worked, as slowly darkness had filled the cabin.

Just outside the closet door Jenny stood with a camp lantern in hand and a blanket and pillow under her arm. Lily stood wide eyed beside her with a basin of warm water and towels. Jenny bit her lip as she glanced at Lily.

Placing the lantern on the floor, she knocked lightly on the door, and bringing her mouth close to the wood said, "Henry?" There was no response.

After a moment Lily said, "I guess he isn't going to say come on in!"

Jenny turned the handle and pulled the door open.

***

The air in the confined space was as dusty as Jenny remembered, as she entered the closet with Lily pushing in close at her back.

Jenny hated the memories this place evoked in her. Anthony had often locked her in the closet in the dark to make her wait until he was "ready" to punish her. Sometimes he would whisper through the door to his prisoner, what he was going to do.

As the circle of light from the lantern she was carrying illuminated the small space she shook the memories away. In the darker area at the back of the closet the vampire 'slept.'

He lay exactly as she had left him. He was curled slightly, resting on his side with one shoulder and one hip to the floor.

His face was pale and curtained with the curls of hair. His eyes were closed, and impossibly long lashes brushed his dirty cheeks. The lower half of his face was stained with blood, dried in a crackled and flaking pattern over his mouth and chin and in runnels down his neck. His lips were slightly parted and Jenny could see the tips of his fangs as they dipped behind that full lower lip. It wasn't that his expression was calm so much as there was a complete absence of expression at all.

One arm was out flung on the floor, his hand palm up. The long fingers were unfurled completely, as though the instinct that kept the human hand cupped in sleep was absolutely lacking.

The other arm was flung across over the first and Jenny could see a large red blood stain on the inside of his sleeve. His knuckles rested on the floor.

His filthy shirt hung in tatters, and in the area just above his waist, was wet with blood. His trousers were in ruin, torn by tree branches and covered in blood and mud.

"Is he d-dead?" Lily asked Jenny tremulously from where she stood holding the basin, "He looks dead to me."

Jenny was inclined to agree, the body in front of her was empty, an empty vessel. It looked like Henry, but the spirit that animated it was terrifyingly absent.

She put as much confidence as she could muster into her voice as she said to Lily, "He's not dead Lil, didn't I just tell you that he's dormant during the daylight hours?"

"But he isn't breathing," Lily countered.

"Lil, Henry told me that during the day a vampire will appear as though they are dead, but that the heart still continues to beat very slowly and their breathing becomes so shallow as to be unnoticeable. But he's not dead!" Jenny said finishing more sharply that she had intended.

_He's not dead_, she assured herself.

Jenny moved forward to where the vampire lay and knelt down beside him laying aside the blankets and pillows. Lily came forward and set the basin on the floor along with the towels.

"God, Jen he looks in really bad shape," Lily said. "I thought you said that he healed right away from injury."

"I don't know Lil, I just don't know." Jenny ran her hands a scant inch above the surface of Henry's chest, not quite making contact, and flexed her fingers as though she were afraid to touch him.

Lily knelt beside Jenny and put her hand out to brush the hair back from Henry's brow. There was no response. Lily looked at Jenny's profile; she seemed distant and lost in her own thoughts.

"Well, if we're going to make him more comfortable, we are going to need to get those clothes off him," Lily said in a business like tone, and she reached out, and with a gentle pressure, pushed Henry over onto his back.

"Jen you get the buttons of his shirt will you?" Lily said. She picked up a cloth and soaked it in the basin.

Jenny seemed to startle from her thoughts and reached out to unbutton the shirt. She drew in a hissing breath as she saw the huge bruise that ran from his ribs downward across one side of his abdomen disappearing beneath the waist of his pants. There was a large and oozing tear in the pale flesh at about the level of his navel. It wasn't healing.

"We're going to need some bandages Lil," she said. "There is a first aid kit in the kitchen. Can you get it?"

She heard Lily rise but she kept her eyes on his injury. Anthony had done this to him. She wrung out the cloth, and looking at Henry's face she tentatively pressed it to the wound; she didn't want to cause him pain. There was no response on his features, no tensing of his body, no indication that he knew she was there. She dipped the cloth back in the basin and wrung it again. The water was tinged pink as she began to gently bath his pale flesh. When Lily returned they bandaged the wound in his side the best they could.

Between them they managed to undress him down to his shorts. His flesh was chilled and as Jenny manipulated his limbs she revised her earlier opinion that the life had bled entirely from him. He did not exhibit the wooden, awkward stiffness that she imagined the dead would have, nor was his body completely limp. There was resilience to his bruised and battered flesh and his body moved easily and smoothly as she directed it. The muscles were not lax but toned, in a state of complete relaxation. No, life was still there but it was hidden away deep inside, the fire banked down to a smoldering coal.

They bathed him, wiping away the grime and blood.

Lily gently pushed back his hair to bathe his face. His visage was in complete repose. She drew the warm cloth over the high forehead and the angled cheek bones and out to the hollow beneath his ear. She washed away the brown runnels of dry blood from his neck.

Jenny ran the warm cloth over the contours of his toned chest and up to his shoulders. She watched as his nipples contracted and darkened as the air cooled his wet skin further. She dipped the cloth again and laid it flat against the surface of his chest. As she washed him, she felt under her palm the arch of his lower rib and then she passed the flat of her hand over his muscled torso. She carefully skirted the bandage as she washed as far as the waist of his shorts.

As she worked the cloth over one of those long fingered, expressive hands, she reflected, _he is helpless. I_ _could do anything I wanted to him and he is helpless to resist._ _He is more helpless that I ever was with Anthony. I could resist. I did resist! Henry's vulnerability, his defenselessness, is absolute. _

It was almost more than she could bear. She suddenly felt intensely protective of that vulnerability. That she and Lily were witness to his defenselessness seemed a terrible intimacy, a trespass almost obscene in nature.

"Jen," Lily's voice roused her from her reverie, "Look at this. His eyes are completely black," she said questioningly as she held up one lid to reveal the glistening dark orb.

"Leave him Lil, he doesn't need us poking around. Just let's get him more comfortable."

Two more basins of warm water later, Henry lay clean and clad only in his boxers on the closet floor. He had been oblivious to their manipulation of his body. Jenny had spread a folded blanket on the floor. Lily had taken hold of Henry's ankles and Jenny slid her arms under his back. "OK we're just going to lift him onto the blanket and then lay him down gently."

They lifted together and managed to settle him on the blanket. "Man, he is way, way, heavier than he looks," Lily said. She placed a pillow under him while Jenny held his head up off the floor and then lowered him gently to rest in its softness. With his arms stretched at his sides, he resembled the dead even more now. Jenny fought off the urge to cross his arms over his chest.

She checked the bandage at his side, relieved that there appeared to be no more blood seeping through.

Lily shook out a blanket and allowed it to drift down over his body from chin to toe. They knelt and between them tucked the blanket all about his body, as though tucking a child into bed. His face remained impassive throughout. There was never a flicker of response.

With a fingertip Jenny pushed a curl gently back from his face and standing, dusted her hands off on her pant legs.

"I think that's the best we can do for him now Lil," Jenny said. "Let's see if we can find some of Anthony's clothes that might fit him. We aren't going to be able to go anywhere until after sunset."

Jenny shoulders slumped, her thoughts jumbled and circular. "I really just want to crawl into the bed and sleep," she mumbled, running a hand over her face…

Lily looked at her in concern, "I know how you feel, but you should eat something first. There is some food in the fridge," Lily said, "let's make some lunch, I don't know about you but I'm feeling hungry."

As the lantern moved away and the door swung closed behind them a more complete darkness fell…unaware, the vampire slumbered on.


	27. Chapter 27

The limiting confines of his body reasserted their control on his spirit, as the sun left the sky. His first breath was a long dry rasp that encompassed first the burning pain in his side and then the rushing, up-swell of his hunger. He instinctively drew inward on himself, bringing up his legs until he was curled into a protective arch around the site of his injury. For a few moments the hunger warred with the pain for dominance and while they engaged each other, Henry slipped into control.

_Where am I? _He thought as he extended his senses outwards past his immediate surroundings. He could taste Jenny and Lily in the air and could hear their hearts beating, rich and slow, almost in unison, somewhere beyond this place. Their breathing sounded as though they were sleeping.

He raised his head and examined the confines of his sanctuary, dark and dusty. _A closet?_ Tentatively he straightened his limbs and slowly unfurled his body.

_He remembered, he remembered it all_ —_the rain, the dark forest, and the chase. He remembered the human stumbling ahead, his abject terror coloring the night. The sound of his breathing, hoarse and labored as his lungs found it harder to function, the frantic struggles of the human's heart. _

_He remembered his own exhilaration at his subjugation of the vampire, of using that which he was, to his own ends. He remembered the sense of righteous outrage as he had remorselessly breached Anthony's defenses, submerging himself in the foulness that was Anthony's psyche._

_He remembered his own fierce joy, in his domination of Anthony's mind, in his domination of his body. "Run," he had whispered, "run, until your heart bursts or there is not a drop of blood in your veins. Run!" _

_Blood, Anthony had rendered his penance in blood. "I have killed you." The human in Henry was glutted with vengeance. In the end there had been so little, with which to appease the vampire._

His hand dropped to his side, his fingertips exploring the bandage covering his wound. He was clean and wore only his small clothes…_they had tended him_.

After more than four centuries of companions, lovers and chance sexual encounters Henry held no residual modesty about his body. The fact that they had seen him nearly naked troubled him not at all.

The fact that they had seen him helpless…. His eyes closed briefly and his brows knit in an expression of regret. He had not wanted Jenny to see him in that state. He never wanted anyone to see him in that state.

Along with the memories swirling in the air, his hunger was like a living force that prodded him and vied for his attention. He cast his mind back. Other than the few mouthfuls he had taken from Anthony at…the end, he had not fed since the early hours of Sunday morning. It was now…_Tuesday_ _night_. Without resources it was no mystery why he was not healing. He needed to feed, now. Even without the having been shot, he would have been hungry after more than sixty hours.

_How could he have been so careless?_ But he knew the answer; it was his human desire for revenge that had prompted him to punish Anthony so brutally. The vampire cared nothing for penance. Had he allowed himself, he could have fed and been well. Instead he had needed to extract justice; he had needed the violence to appease his _human_ sense of honor. And what was the result? The vampire suffered and now he was weakened and ravenous.

The scent of the women was everywhere in his small prison. The sounds of their hearts were an invitation to his hunger. He licked his lips to moisten them and found himself excruciatingly thirsty. He propped himself carefully to one elbow and saw that just beyond his pillow was a neat pile of clothing and blessedly, a large glass of water.

His body protested as he eased himself into a seated position and reached for the glass, downing the tepid liquid thirstily in several rapid swallows. Wiping the sides of his mouth with the back of a scratched and bruised hand he set the empty glass aside and looked to the clothing.

_Ahhh…Jenny! _He thought as he saw his pocket watch nestled on the very top of the pile. When he opened it the face read 9:20.

He was familiar with his own sanctuary and he knew the limits of the sun's domination in that location. He was unfamiliar with this cabin, having only seen one side of the building. He looked at the door of the closet. He had no way of knowing if there might be the deadly remnants of a golden sunset shining in through picture windows on the other side of that barrier.

_I will have to wait_ he thought.

In the security of the dark he wondered how the women had entered his sanctuary and left again without immolating him by accident. He had been oblivious to their care and how they had managed it was beyond his ken.

He rose, and wobbling slightly, his arm pressed against his side, he made his way to the door. Even at this late date, his instincts flared briefly as he realized the door opened outwards and there was no way for him to secure it from the inside.

_Calm yourself_, he thought. _If they had wanted to expose you to the sun or to stake you, then one might assume that they would have done so by now. _

He ran his slender fingers around the edge of the frame; there was no light entering. _Perhaps it is blocked from the outside,_ he thought with a puzzled frown.

He made a slow progression back to the bed, the pernicious combination of hunger and pain wearing on him already. He knelt and picked up the shirt,. It smelled of Jenny, laundry soap, and of Anthony.

Henry's lips curled in a cold smile. _I may feel bad, but you sir, feel nothing at all, _he thought as he gingerly slipped his arm down the sleeve.

It took him the better part of ten minutes to dress in the garments provided. He was forced to pause now and again to reestablish his tattered control. Finally fully clothed, he sat cross legged on the blankets and tried not to think beyond the immediate moment.

When the clock face said 9:45, he put his hand on the door knob. He had listened carefully for any indication of a problem. Both Jenny's and Lily's breathing was even and slow in slumber. He pushed open the door and was greeted by what appeared to be a shallow tent made of heavy grey blankets. _Clever girl,_ he thought.

As he pushed aside the blankets there was a loud snort and then a quieter snore from the bedroom. Even through his pain the sound was comical, and as tense as he was a quiet chuckle escaped him.

The cabin was completely dark but for the lamplight's golden glow coming from the bedroom door. He could see that Lily and Jenny had blocked all the windows and doors in their efforts to shield him. There were the remains of a meal on the table. He made his way slowly across the room to the bedroom. He leaned his shoulder heavily on the door frame for support.

In the warm light they were lying spooned together on the bed. Jenny, on the outside edge, was under the comforter and Lily was curled behind her on the side against the wall. She lay with one arm across her sister in a protective posture.

Jenny stirred and turned on her back, one side of her face red and wrinkled with sleep and Lily's arm draped across her torso. Almost immediately Jenny began to snore, a sort of a farcical wheeze that escalated rapidly to an alarming volume. Lily's arm flopped up and down over her and she mumbled

"Jen' you're snoring again, Jen!"

Lily raised her head up from behind Jenny as she was struggling to push her onto her side and it was then she saw Henry leaning in the doorway.

He saw her eyes widen slightly for a moment, as he shifted against the doorframe, struggling to keep the mask in place.

This was the first time that she had seen "the vampire" awake, and she studied him with new insight. _Could he really be four hundred and fifty years old? Truth to tell, she thought, he looks like shit…though I suppose stopping a bullet might have that effect on someone. He was as white as a sheet and curled protectively towards his injured side. He had seemed like a monster in the rainy dark, now in the lamplight, he looked like a young man, alone and suffering._

She tossed her head and narrowing her eyes said, "You look like death warmed over!"

Henry managed to lift his lips in a smile that resembled a grimace more than the sardonic grin for which he was aiming.

"You are too kind!" he said in a hoarse voice, full of the tension he could feel building in response to his hunger.

Jenny pulled herself to one elbow. "Henry, are you all right?" she inquired even as she was swinging her legs out from under the comforter. Lily was ungainly as she clambered across the bed in an effort to rise.

Their movements brought a fresh wave of scent, of blood scent, to Henry, and his grasp on the hunger faltered. Pivoting his back against the doorframe, he turned away to the living room saying, "No…No I'm not all right."

He was almost to a chair when Jenny caught up to him and went to put her arms around him. His voice was cold and harsh as he bid her, "Don't…don't touch me. Stay away from me Jenny, and stay back."

Wincing he lowered himself into the chair, his arm clutched to his damaged side. Lily stood in the door of the bedroom silhouetted against the light, one hand on the frame.

"I just wanted to…" Jenny began as she dropped her arms to her sides.

Henry cut her off, shaking his head. "No. I can explain this once and only once." The mounting tension of his struggle making him curt in spite of the hurt he saw in her eyes.

He paused and then inhaling shallowly, he confessed the danger.

"I hunger." He paused after the first difficult admission. "I need to feed; I need blood to heal. When you are near me, touch me, it is that much harder to control myself." He paused and ran a shaking hand over his face.

Jenny's mind filled again with the vision that had haunted her dreams. _He raised his face away from where he fed at Anthony's arm, his mouth and chin awash with blood, blood that had trickled in runnels down the pale skin of his throat, and disappeared under his collar…_

In a softer voice he began again, "I can taste your scent in the air, I can hear your hearts beating, hear the passage of your blood," he dropped his head and swallowed heavily as his own words battered at his control.

Jenny and Lily looked at each other with eyes wide.

_Lily thought of the sharp white fangs she had glimpsed earlier as she had bathed his face, ivory white and nestled snug and dangerous behind his lower lip. What would it be like to be bitten? She didn't think he would harm her. How bad would the pain be, and how would that pain measure against the terrible tension she saw in the man before her._

Licking her lips Lily began, "Maybe you could f-feed from…" only to be interrupted in mid-sentence by both Jenny and Henry's voices sounding in unison.

"No!"

Jenny's voice was shrill and she held out her hand to Lily in a 'stay where you are' gesture. "No, Lily you don't know what you're saying, you don't know what he can do!"

The images circled in her mind. _His fangs drew down and across Anthony's back in the dimness and the material of his shirt darkened with a spreading stain. _

Jenny shook her head as she looked at Lily. "No!"

Henry had swiveled his head to watch Jenny as she spoke, her words were as sharp as the whip, and flayed his heart. Her aura had died to a thin golden film that hugged her physical body. He drew in a shallow steadying breath.

"No, Lily_," _he said softly, his curls shifting as he shook his head, regretfully.

_I won't, _he thought, _I won't. I can't allow her to see anything more; she will reject me out of hand. Not like this, not now. I can wait a little longer._

His face was shadowed in the dim light, "I thank you for the offer, but I will not feed from either you _or your sister_. You are my friends and that is a rarity that I value that more than…" As he paused, he heard Jenny's breath exhaled in a sigh of relief. Though his jaw clenched briefly, he did not turn his head to look.

He continued evenly, "I am injured and hungry; I just need to go home. Please, just take me home."

"Is Anthony…?" Jenny asked in a trembling voice. Though she did not want to know, she had to ask for her own sanity.

"Anthony is dead," Henry said baldly, his voice flat and cold. "He paid the price for his sins. Is that not what you wished?"

He was suddenly angry, angry at her fear and angry at himself for frightening her. His eyes were the deepest of blues in his pain and his jaw clenched at the injustice of a situation in which there was no way he could win.

Jenny nodded slowly, her eyes downcast. "We can be ready to leave in fifteen minutes."


	28. Chapter 28

As Jenny and Lily moved quickly about the cabin preparing to depart, Henry sat huddled into the chair. He pressed his arm against the injury in his side, every breath a burning reminder that he was not healing.

In the past he had found himself injured and weak on many occasions yet he could not remember having ever brought the condition so thoroughly upon himself.

For a few minutes he watched Jenny and Lily quickly gather their things. Eventually he realized that watching their movements was a stimulation he did not need and he allowed his eyes to drift slowly closed. The blank darkness proved a fleeting respite.

As he sat with his chin on his chest he could sense their movements in the very air around him. Their soft voices here and there at varying distances pinpointed their locations. The intensification of their scents as they moved closer betrayed the subtle nuances that spoke of their emotions. Henry did not need to open his eyes to know what expressions they wore on their faces. Lily's scent was clear and purposeful; Jenny's was polluted with fear and worry.

He focused inward, firming his grip on the hunger, forcing it back. He felt the miniscule increase in the surrounding temperature and the gentle eddying of the air. Her scent and heartbeat announced her presence.

"Henry?"

He opened his eyes and raised his head. Lily stood a few feet in front of him. She wrung her hands, concern written plain on her face.

"We are almost ready… You don't look well, do you need anything?"

_Blood_, his mind supplied, _I need your blood_.

"Water, please," he heard himself say, "I'm thirsty."

Relieved, she hurried to the kitchen returning with a large glass of water.

Henry watched her approach, his eyes hooded. "Just place it on the table," he said, the strain evident in his voice. Lily placed the glass on the end table and withdrew a step. Henry's eyes remained on Lily's as he closed his fingers around the glass and raised it to his lips. Tilting his head back he drained the glass in long swallows, Lily's eyes never left his throat. The cool water did nothing to placate the hunger, but is did assuage some of the dreadful thirst that accompanied blood loss. Henry did not know whether to be grateful for the relief of his thirst or regretful for the loss of the distraction that thirst provided.

Before he thought better of it, Henry held out the empty glass to Lily. As she stepped forward to take it she looked into his eyes and saw the measure of suffering behind the stormy blue gaze. She saw the pain and struggle floating in their depths. Henry suddenly became quite still. Lily's breath caught in her throat as Henry's gaze focused on her face, with a heart stopping intensity. She was not so far removed from her early ancestors that she did not recognize the predator in those eyes.

Henry's hands grasped the arms of the chair and his eyes narrowed in effort. He did not look away from her though his knuckles where white on the chair arms as he whispered hoarsely, "Leave me. Back away…slowly. Don't turn around."

When Lily had backed a safe distance away Henry struggled to his feet.

Jenny came back in through the cabin door. "I think we have done pretty well all we can," she said, her voice trailing off as she registered the tension in the air.

"We just need to close up the place."

As Jenny and Lily checked once more through the cabin, Henry made his way carefully to the door. He knew that beneath the bandage his wound was oozing blood again, it would not heal until he had fed.

From the bedroom Jenny saw him in the doorway. "Henry?" she inquired.

"I need to be out in the air," he replied, without turning. "I'll wait in the car." As Henry traversed the short distance from the cabin to the car, the night caressed his skin. The night was clean and clear and welcoming. The moon, though past her fullness was still bright and low in the sky. The blazing stars wheeled overhead like brilliant birds in the arch of the firmament.

As he leaned his aching body against the door of the car, Henry felt a little more controlled in the open expanse of the dark between the cabin and the cool dark promise of the shadows under the trees.

The shadows under the…_trees grey in the dimness, their trunks flashing by as he pushed his body forward. Weaving in and out of their trunks, hurtling over the obstacles in his path in glorious pursuit of the human that he drove before him…the thunder of Anthony's heartbeat in his ears…_

Henry felt the burn in his cheeks where he refused to allow his fangs to extend; his face ached miserably with the effort to maintain his human appearance. _In the expansive catalogue of his pain, what was one more small misery,_ he thought.

Jenny saw Henry leaning against the car, as she switched off the lights in the cabin. He was staring up at the stars. She thought back to the night of the party, before she knew what he was, how she had watched him look up at the moon and thought that he looked as though he belonged to the night and the forest, how he had looked…timeless. Well now she knew, and she wondered at the sudden distance between them.

Henry lowered himself painfully into the back seat of the car. Hissing in a sharp exhalation of pain as he reached across to pull the door closed. Jenny opened the front door and got behind the wheel and started the engine. Lily was loading the bag containing Henry's ruined clothing in the trunk. As she closed the lid with a metallic clunk she wavered for a moment, then deciding crossed to the back door and slipped into the back seat opposite of Henry.

Henry rolled his head against the seatback to regard Lily through eyes slitted against the sudden brilliance of the headlights. He thought, _I should tell her to sit in the front, and then decided that it wouldn't be any better if he had to watch both their backs all the way to Windemere._

Instead he contented himself with moving as far distant from them both as he could, his shoulder turned to them both as he wedged himself into the seat back and the door.

The drive out from the cabin on the logging road was a seemingly endless torment for Henry's battered body and the car bounced and jostled through the deep ruts and potholes. He found he had to continually brace himself in the seat.

Early on, as the back end of the car bottomed out in a particularly deep pot hole, he felt the white hot heat of something tear in his wound. He could feel the dribbling wetness at his side. Yet he welcomed the pain as it drew his focus from the clawing hunger.

The ride became much smoother when they reached the graded gravel road. With the distraction of jostling pain lost, Henry turned his face away from the girls, laying his forehead against the cool glass. He closed his eyes, cutting off the one sense that he could. Their scents were concentrated in the car and their hearts beating in the enclosed space produced a metallic echo in his ears that sounded like a multitude.

He hung on to himself somehow, his hands balled into fists. He was so sunk in his own misery that he did not register when the surface beneath the tires changed from gravel to asphalt and Jenny began to pick up speed.

There was no conversation in the car, no jokes or even whispered conferences. The three were silent in their own thoughts as they sped through the night.

Lily could see Henry's posture alter, for the past fifteen minutes as she watched, his body curled inward as he became more and more withdrawn. His back was turned defensively towards her and his cheek was buried deep in his own shoulder. She knew he was battling, battling his own demons. She knew he was losing ground. Turning in her seat she stretched out her arm towards him, but then slowly drew back. She softly called his name, "Henry."

***

Henry slowly opened his eyes, at her calling. As he turned his face to them he narrowed his eyes against the glare. The whole front of the car was ablaze with the aurora of golden glory, of what he recognized as Jenny's aura.

_Jenny, Jenny…_he reminded himself. That glowing network of life that he saw, that was … that was, _Jenny?_

Closer, much closer was a billowing cloud of life enrobing a human shaped glowing net. The pulsing life-force at its center was calling to him.

He heard a voice, "Leave him alone Lil".

It was too late, Lily, looked into Henry's face and saw only the intent stare of the predator. She was frightened and froze in mid action. She feared if she moved at all he would attack her. She called his name again. The predator stared on unblinking. "Henry!" she said sharply. He started and then collapsed backwards into the seat, moaning. "I can't stop scenting you… I can't stop hearing you."

Jenny spared a glance over her shoulder and said to Henry, "We are less than an hour outside of Windemere. Can you hold on?" She gave the car a little more gas and watched the speedometer swing a little further over.

With no regard except to ease his obvious distress, Lily leaned past him, as he tensed, and rolled down the window of the car completely. Her hair flew about her face as the night air blasted in. At the speed they were going, it rolled over Henry with a reviving freshness.

In the rushing air he raised his head briefly and was surrounded by the scent of the trees and the night. Henry laid his cheek against the door. He could feel the wind rushing past his face, could scent the asphalt and the car exhaust, the gasoline.

His brow knit in concentration as though he puzzled over something. He opened his eyes, and watched the night slipping past, the blur of the trees, and the gravel shoulder of the highway speeding by, faster and faster…the edges of the night began to gray and blur and he watched as his field of vision narrowed. The roar of the engine and the persistent underlying throbbing of their hearts were overcome by an insistent high pitched humming coming from everywhere, a black pit opened before him…

Lily watched as Henry's tightly wound body suddenly went limp. She realized that he had lost consciousness.

"Jen, Jen…I think that Henry just passed out." Lily said in alarm. She scooted over in the seat and pulled him down across her lap.

Jenny was looking at Lily in the review mirror, "Lily, be careful." She warned.

Lily pulled her hand away from where she had rolled Henry down to the seat, it came away sticky and wet. "Oh my God, Jen…he's bleeding again, hurry!"

Jenny was frantic…"Is he still breathing," she asked, "should I stop?"

Lily laid her palm on Henry's chest, though it moved slowly; it rose and fell underneath her touch.

"Yes, yes, he's breathing. Don't stop Jen…hurry! Lily cried. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself.

"Jen I know we are less than an hour from home, but what are we going to do when we get there?" Lily asked.

Jenny looked at Lily in the rearview mirror and said, "He told us to take him home, and that is what we're going to do, he has a safe place there. I don't know Lil'…once we get there we'll have to see."

Lily nodded numbly as Jenny turned her attention back to the road. _Jen doesn't know what to do_ she thought; _someone has to be able to help him._

Henry was twisted awkwardly in the seat, laying on hip and shoulder, his face turned to the side and cushioned in her lap. Lily pushed back the errant curls that veiled his features. His face looked boyish and troubled. Her heart went out to him.

A glint of silver caught her eyes and looking down she saw the cross that he wore on a leather thong around his neck, lying on the seat. It was heavy and old and when she picked it up she could feel the smooth portions of the metal where it had been much handled. She ran her thumb over the worn silver and wondered; _would a monster be able to wear the cross?_ She folded the cross once more in her hand and made a decision.

She glanced at Jenny in the mirror and could see that she was focused on the road ahead. Quietly she moved her arm up from where it had rested on his chest and pressed it close to Henry's lips. "Don't hurt me," she whispered.

The vampire lay still for more than twenty minutes, oblivious to the offer of what he so desperately needed.

Lily moved her arm back as Jenny said over her shoulder, "How is he?"

"No change," Lily responded, but that wasn't strictly true, she felt his body grow tense on the seat beside her and she knew he was struggling back towards consciousness. She stroked his brow, finding that she was not at all frightened now that she had decided what to do.

She trailed her fingers down his cheek and though his eyes remained closed, he turned his face towards her touch. She stroked his cheek again and once again the same response. She laid her palm on his cheek and he turned his face to her, nuzzling into her hand with his lips, a frown crossing over his features.

Lily suddenly remembered where she had seen this. _At the party when Henry was holding Ruby in his arms. She had watched as the babe had rooted with her lips against Henry's throat, in the same instinctive nuzzling that she saw the vampire do now_. _What had he said? "I believe that she still hungers."_

She licked her lips, glanced at Jenny and then brought the skin at the inside of her wrist to his lips.

His eyes remained closed as he pushed with his lips against her wrist once and then again. Then there was a cool wetness as his tongue flicked out to taste. The frown on his face deepened, and she felt a wet slickness as he dragged his tongue pressed flat, insistently against the thin skin of her wrist.

She was so tense that she hardly registered the brief stinging pain as his fangs pierced her flesh, when it came. She felt him shift suddenly under her hands as his lips molded themselves around the flesh of her wrist. _This isn't so bad; she had time to think to herself._

Then he began to draw on the bite. She could feel the ache travel up her arm. Her flesh was rolled back and forth against those four burning impalements as he swallowed; dragging her flesh into his mouth with the suction he created.

His hand came up to grasp hers and he held her flesh more firmly against his lips. He drew greedily at first as though he feared she would withdraw the sustenance she offered, but soon he slowed to a gentler pace.

Lily stared down to where he rested, eyes closed on her lap, his throat working as he swallowed again and again. She wondered if he would know when to stop. Her wondering held no trace of fear, she felt good, she felt so good, and she relaxed into the experience. The ache in her arm faded as the vampire suckled.

A building heat began to spread below her belly downwards and outwards. Lily tilted her head back against the seat and closed her eyes, and the rushing wind and the passage of the trees disappeared.

***

He sensed the blood close at hand and turned his face seeking, _where?_ Again that tender brush and instinct sent him seeking once more…_where?_

Warm, the skin was warm against his face, he drew in a gusting breath, and the scent was female. Here was sustenance.

He hungered. Here, at last, was sustenance. The sweet scent of blood so close, his fangs ran out in anticipation.

He could sense the blood flowing hot on its path throughout the body next to him, it was so close, only a thin membrane to breach and then it would be his.

He nuzzled against the flesh with his lips, his eyes closed. He did not need sight to find that which he sought. Her scent was all around him and the pulsing drive of the blood so close below the surface was his only guide.

His tongue swept across her skin, his lips following, orienting him in a dance that was for him centuries old.

Driven by instinct he merged himself with that life. He interposed his need with that of his prey, aligning himself so that her blood nourished his body as well as her own.

He sank down into her heart's beating. His jaw and throat worked in unison with that pulse as he made himself one with that life.

There was the extended bliss of acquisition, she gave to him, and she gave…the vampire suckled.

.***

Jenny drove as fast as she could towards town; the landscape was familiar now, even in the dark. The twists and turns of the highway were well known to her and she relaxed her grip on the wheel slightly.

She glanced in the review mirror and was shocked to see that Lily had fallen asleep in the back seat, her head tipped back against the seat, her eye lids fluttering.

Jenny's heart lurched, _no not asleep_ her brain screamed. Lily's chest rose and fell rapidly and her small moans suddenly filled Jenny's ears.

The car slowed as she tilted the mirror so that she could see down into the back seat. She saw Henry; she saw _the vampire_, his head cushioned on Lily's lap, and his mouth locked on her wrist. His eyes were closed and he was frowning in concentration as his mouth worked at her sister's flesh.

Jenny's mouth opened as she drew in several shallow breaths and tears filled her eyes, at what she saw reflected there. She could not name the emotions that swelled up inside her chest; she could not sort them or identify them. Her emotions swirled and tumbled expanding in a tumultuous cloud until she thought she would burst because she could not contain them.

She looked back to the road momentarily and then back to the mirror. Tears were streaming down her face and she caught her breath when as she watched the vampire, swallow once more. Then as though responding to her gaze, he opened midnight black eyes to regard her own in the mirror's silvered surface.

The liquid black surface of his eyes was opaque and devoid of the human measure of meaning. She could not read anything in that black gaze. _If the eyes are the window to the soul_ she thought, _then what am I looking at here?_ Her mind would not follow that thought further and she snapped her eyes back to the road.

She dashed with the back of her hand against the tears that rolled down her cheeks and as she passed the road sign for Windemere town limits she drew in a shaky breath. Her eyes found the mirror again and she watched as the vampire, his eyes once again veiled, appeared to be licking…_licking Lily's wrist?_

She stopped at the red light at the center of town, forced to wait though there was no sign of any other cars at this late hour.

Adjusting the mirror, she searched the reflection of Lily's face. Her sister leaned back calmly against the seat, her eyes closed and her brow smooth, a small smile playing about her lips. She saw Henry rise into view and saw him push back the strands of Lily's hair with a tender hand. He bent to her neck and Jenny stiffened, but she only saw his lips move as he whispered in Lily's ear. Lily did not open her eyes but she nodded smiling more broadly.

The light changed and Jenny pulled away from the light more quickly than strictly necessary, her tires squeaking in the still night air.

When she looked in the mirror again she could see Henry seated back on his side of the car. His eyes were downcast as he wiped at the edges of his lower lip with his knuckle. Even in the dimly lit reflection, he already looked stronger, sleeker, and more alive.

He pushed his hair back from his face and his blue-eyed gaze met hers in the mirror. Jenny snapped her eyes back to the road. She was no more than a mile from the Chadwick cottage. The broken line down the middle of the road became her sole focus.

She felt him move forward to lean his weight on the back of the seat. She could feel his warm breath on her neck.

"Jenny," he began. But she shook her head angrily, grasping the only emotion she could identify.

He could see the wet film of tears in her eyes as she said, "Don't touch me! What…are you still hungry? You didn't get enough with Lily and Anthony, you want my blood too?"

She swung the car under the arch, sliding to a halt with a spray of gravel.

Lily opened her eyes and inquired groggily, "Jen? Henry?"

"Jenny, I needed…" Henry began again, but Jenny overrode him. "You asked me to bring you home and I have, now get out!"

Lily asked blearily, "Jen what's wrong? Wait don't be mad… I wanted… I wanted…"

Henry's lips pressed flat in a thin line, as his anger sparked. _He would not be ashamed of what he was!_

He patted Lily's knee once and then opened the car door and stepped out on to the drive.

Squinting in the glare of the headlights, his eyes met Jenny's and she said, "I'll make sure you get your car back tomorrow, while you're…'sleeping'." She was backing out of the drive before the car door had even clicked closed.

Henry stood alone in the dark, as he watched the red tail lights disappear down the road.


	29. Chapter 29

The paint flowed smoothly from the brush; the buttery consistency rode over the weave of the canvas's surface. Henry dragged the brush further and further until the soft blue faded to a whisper. As he lifted the bristles free of the canvas, he studied the painting through narrowed eyes.

The composition was strong and the cobalt preliminary layer was an accurate representation of the value study for the painting. Later he would come back with earthen green and then yellow washes to create the grisaille version before adding the multiple layers needed to bring the painting to fruition.

He frowned and shook his head, setting his palette aside.

The spark in the portrait eluded him. Technically, the piece was flawless, but the spirit had vanished. He laid aside the palette and doused his brushes in turpentine. The sharp scent spilled into the room as he picked up a rag and worked the paint from the bristles, dousing the brushes again and again until they were clean.

He sighed, and standing the brushes upright in a canister, paced across the room to the kitchen. Arriving there, he realized that there was nothing he wanted and then returned retracing his steps to the living room. He hovered for a moment in front of the fireplace and then crossed to the window to regard the portrait once more. Eventually he went and seated himself at the drawing table.

He got as far as opening a sketchbook to some landscape roughs, but after a few moments found himself, with chin on fist, staring off into space.

_Stop moping around;_ he told himself sternly, _you can't have everything you want. It's not the first time you have been rejected and it won't be the last. His heart was not inclined to listen._

_The prince in him was mortified, that his advances had been rejected out of hand. That he had lowered himself to search for the girl at her place of employment and at her home. That she avoided him and refused to see him. That her friends and family told him she had left town. That, with his heart sore, he had displayed his disappointment and hurt for all to see._

_The people at the Recreation Hall had been cold when he had inquired. The barkeep informed him that, "Jenny was upset and needed some time off and that she wouldn't be back for a week." The man's attitude had been churlish as though he thought Henry was responsible for Jenny's absence. _

_Was he, _he wondered?

_It had been worse that, unable to help himself, he had gone to her home. The cottage was empty; there was no one there. He had entered and her scent was everywhere. In a moment of weakness, he had permitted himself to lie upon her bed, his head on her pillow. Eventually he had penned a note to Lily on a page torn from his sketchbook and left it folded and tucked in the door. _

_The next night Lily had come to him, soon after he had risen. She had been shy and flighty when he had first met her at the kitchen door, but he had assured her that, "he wouldn't bite." She had smiled and then relaxed. She had come to tell him that Jenny was gone away for a few days to…think. _

_He remembered that he had, in his pain, asked Lily, "What good will thinking do? Thinking will not change what I am." _

_The stricken look on her face had made him instantly apologetic, and he had spent a long time listening to Lily explain how Jenny was frightened and confused. With tears in her eyes Lily said that Jenny didn't know what she wanted, or who she could trust. Henry's pain was magnified by the guilt he felt for the discord he had brought between the sisters. _

_He had driven to Gravenhurst that same evening and in the alleyways of that small city he had hunted and had fed with a brutal efficiency that had shocked even him._

_Well, he only had himself to blame. He should have been more cautious. He should have kept what he was from her. He should never have allowed her so close in the first place. He should have made sure she saw nothing of his 'involvement' with Anthony. He should never, never have fed from her sister. There was a long list of things he felt he should not have done and if they were truly the reason, if it was something he had done that drove her from him, in time he could accept that._

_But, _he thought,_ that was not the case. He feared that she had spurned him, not for what he had done but for what he was. He remembered her tear filled eyes in the mirror as he suckled at her sister's wrist. She feared his nature. The sense of helplessness that realization evoked bruised his heart. _

_He could not rest or work here now. He had decided to return to Toronto tomorrow evening, as soon as he rose._

_He was filled with restlessness and he could find nothing to comfort his mind or heart. Perhaps I will go to the lake, _he thought.

***

The water was dark and warm as the vampire lay in the shallows. The heat of the sun was still captured in the body of the lake and in the silt of the shallows. He lay with a stillness that contradicted the restlessness of his spirit.

The sky stretching overhead was full of moisture and the moon was but a diffusely glowing disk behind the cloud cover.

The vampire was borne up on the breath of the lake as it flowed inward and outward, trickling across the pebbled beach in a soothing cadence. He let his pride and sorrow drift with the eddying water and he felt the serenity he was searching for begin to pool in his soul.

He scented her first, as she approached from up wind. Her scent, he drew it into his lungs as he waited. Soon enough came the splashing of her feet through the water and the slow steady beating of her heart.

When he heard her voice say, "I thought I might find you here," he opened his jet black eyes. From where he lay in the water he regarded the glowing luminosity of her aura. She stood in shorts and a long, water spattered t-shirt. Her dark hair spiked and disarrayed. Her blue eyes dark and huge in her pale face

He did not respond but allowed his dark unreadable gaze to travel slowly up and down the length of her body.

_I will not hide what I am_, he thought perversely.

Jenny looked down at the pale perfect form that lay shimmering just below the water's surface.

"I remembered that you said you liked to come here and rest," Jenny said.

"And to… think," he relented, as he spoke past his fangs, allowing the vampire a voice.

"May I, join you?" Jenny said simply. Henry nodded slightly and watched her, unblinking, as she lifted her t-shirt over her head, crumpling it and tossing it to the beach and then stepped out of her shorts. They followed, landing somewhere close to the water's edge. Above the low cut edge of her swim suit, front and back, the swirling rows of scars stood in high relief as she shivered in the cool air.

Henry's gaze remained impassive as she drew closer.

"Thank God the water is warmer than the air," she said as she sat at his side. She splashed a few cupped handfuls of water over her arms and chest and then eased herself slowly back until she was reclining in the water beside him. Her body lay in the silt of the lake's bottom and it was a warm and powdery soft texture. Self consciously, she eased over slightly until her arm rested in contact with his, along its length.

With a sudden prickling of unease she realized his flesh was cooler than the water in which he rested. He did not draw away from the contact, but neither did he give any outward sign of his emotions.

"Lily told me that she came to see you," Jenny began. "She said that you left her a note. I'm sorry that I worried you. I'm sorry that I hurt you."

Still he made no answer.

Jenny plowed ahead, "I needed to get away for a bit Henry, I needed to think, about what happened, about all the…the things I saw. I needed to think about what you are, and about what you did to Lily."

She paused as he raised himself to one elbow and half turned in the water to gaze into her face. He was silent for a moment more and she hedged under the scrutiny of those blank dark eyes in a face framed with the dripping hair, the water sluicing back to rejoin the lake.

_Golden,_ he thought, _golden and full of life._ _The water carries her golden glow diffusing it outward like the glow of a candle in the dark, like the glow of the moon in the sky tonight. The silvered minnows hovering at the edges of her light are caught in wonder, caught, as am I._

He found himself awash in that glow; his heart yearned towards it, in the way that the human heart yearns for the stars.

"Thinking…won't change anything, Jenny," he said slowly. He was choosing his words with care.

He knew now, as surely as he knew his own name, that the stars were unattainable. That did not mean he wished to be deprived of their light altogether.

"You should not be angry with Lily; she only intended to help me. Sometimes…humans…can feel our needs, and sometimes they want to respond." As he spoke, he remembered the sweetness of Lily's gift, her tender flesh against his lips.

"I am only what I am. No amount of thinking or wishing will change that. I made my choices long ago. I must now accept the consequences of those choices. Jenny, your choices, are your own."

"Lily told me that you are leaving for Toronto tomorrow evening," Jenny said numbly, "So soon…"

Henry nodded, though he did not speak.

"I thought about you a lot Henry," she said suddenly, "and not only about what you did to Anthony, or what you did with Lily, what you do with other people that you, that you…"

"On whom I feed?" Henry supplied gently.

"Yes," she breathed. "I thought about who you are, not just what you are. Who you are is harder to accept Henry; you are four hundred and fifty years old. I am twenty four. I have never been anywhere or done anything other than get married to Anthony, and just look how that worked out." She skimmed her upturned palm, beneath the water, down the length of her torso indicating her scars.

Henry caught her hand in his, raising it out of the water and bringing it to his lips. To her credit, she did not even tense when he pressed a cool kiss to its back.

"I want to live, Henry," she said with tears in her eyes, and she rose up out of the water to her elbows. "I want to travel, to see the world, to experience, to experience…everything! I want to have a life, a life! I want to learn to trust again, find someone, and have a family…" Her voice was begging for his understanding now. "I want to be well."

Henry wanted to gather her to him, to offer her his strength, yet he contented himself with lifting a slender hand and rubbing her tears away with his thumb. He watched her aura brighten as he had seen in the past, it seemed the night and the lake lent her strength.

Jenny shifted in the water until she lay on her side and she brought a hand up to cup his cheek, directing his face downward until their eyes were but a few inches apart.

She looked beseechingly into the midnight of his gaze, searching, searching for…

"Anthony was the first man I was ever with," She said. "I know nothing of love, Henry. I know only fear and pain and betrayal. He has damaged me. She flattened her hand running her palm down the front of his chest. She was trembling. "I want to heal, Henry."

Henry caught her up in his arms, holding her to him. The water lapped at their bodies, cool and calm, with the rhythm of the lake's endless breath. He was bathed in her life force, her warmth where she pressed against him. Her scent spoke of fear and arousal in equal measure. He lowered his face to her shoulder in an instinctive response to her vulnerability. He laid a line of gentle kisses along her shoulder and throat; when he kissed her lips they opened beneath his.

"I'm still afraid of you Henry," she admitted quietly, "Can you teach me not to fear?"

His smile was tender as his blue eyes met hers…"Perhaps we may learn that lesson together."


	30. Chapter 30

Henry rose leaving the water swirling and clouded. He extended a cool hand to Jenny and his spirit lightened as she slipped her lake wrinkled fingers into his.

"Why aren't you all pruned up like me," she asked smiling.

"Call it an unexpected benefit," he replied as he pulled her to her feet. They took a few steps to the shore, hand in hand. Henry felt the loss keenly as, releasing his hand she stooped to retrieve her clothing. She began to turn the shirt right side out to pull it on. Henry stepped forward and ran the back of his hand across her chest.

"Please don't, don't hide from me," he asked. She heard the echo of his recent pain in the request and it hurt her heart. She nodded and spread the clothes over her arm.

There was a slight silence into which Henry, clearing his throat finally confided. "Normally this would be where I would sweep you into my arms and carry you inside. I don't suppose…?"

"No, no I don't think so," she replied, her smile evidently meant to cover the anxiety that Henry could scent.

_Careful,_ he cautioned himself. _She is still afraid, still haunted by her past._

"The evening is overcast tonight and the trail will be dark," Henry smiled, his eyes dancing. He held out his arm with a courtly bow, saying lightly, "my Lady, may I escort you?"

"Four hundred and fifty years old you say? No wonder Vera thinks you are old fashioned," she muttered, just loud enough to be sure he heard.

Her arm, where he held it against his side was almost as cool as his own as the water evaporated from her skin. They picked their way along the cedar trail carefully, neither human nor vampire enjoying the rough texture of the bark under foot. Henry could feel the water tricking down his back dripping from the ends of the ringleted curls that hung about his shoulders.

She paced spritely and golden at his side, content for the moment and her heart calmed to a relaxed rate. Her swim suit clung wetly, molded to her torso in a smooth line from breast to hip.

She turned to him, catching him at his inspection, and not the least bit embarrassed he smiled engagingly. Jenny could see Henry, her Henry in that smile. The Henry she knew before she knew about the vampire. Her pace slowed and Henry turned to her inquiringly as she drew him to a stop. She grasped his wrist and lifted his arm slightly. His muscled torso was unmarred; three days ago there had been a horrendous wound there. She ran her fingertips lightly over the smooth skin.

"I have fed," Henry said, in answer to the unspoken question, "That is why I am well."

"You fed," she repeated, her imagination immediately filling with a catalogue of locals on whom she tried to picture Henry feeding…beginning with his nearest neighbors and extending to all the young women in the township…"on whom?" Henry shook his head and would not answer her inquiry, insisting that it was better that she did not know.

Her question had reminded him though and Henry squeezed her arm slightly where it rested over his and said, "I have already spoken to Lily." He felt her stiffen slightly but continued in spite of that: "I wanted to thank you for protecting me and caring for me at the cabin. I have been told that our daytime appearance can be quite disturbing, and I truly appreciate the efforts that…" Jenny held a finger to his lips.

"Shhhh, that's what friends do," she said.

He smiled, "That's exactly what Lily said."

They emerged from the trees as they approached the cottage and Jenny saw that the warm glow of the living room lamps spilled out onto the porch. Moored in the sea of tall grass, the cottage looked like a ship, safe and secure at anchor.

Jenny, her hand resting on his forearm, felt that she and Henry were making a slow and formal promenade through the undulating whiskered heads of the grasses; for_ all that we are in our bathing suits_ she thought.

He released her arm and bounded up the steps to the porch, breathing deeply as though he relished the evening air. Jenny thought that in his sudden enthusiasm, he looked heartbreakingly young.

Sliding back the front door, he bowed from the waist with a courtly flourish. The effect only slightly spoiled by the bare feet and swim trunks and his grin as he said, "My Lady," indicating that she should precede him.

Once she was over the threshold she stopped, suddenly a little nervous, unsure of the course she had set for herself. She gathered her clothing together into a damp ball that she held to her chest. Henry could see the pulse jump at her throat.

"You've moved the easel," she said, noting that it stood with the canvas turned to face the wall. Henry glanced that way and then pulled the sliding glass closed. He crossed to her, gently removing the clothes from her arms and setting them aside on the drawing table.

Jenny stood for a moment and then lifted one foot to rub her instep on the back of one of her calves. She could feel the itch of the silt from the lake bottom drying on her skin.

"I must look a wreck," she muttered self consciously, as she ran her hands up and down her arms, brushing at what she was sure was a layer of grime. Immediately she rubbed her hands together and rubbing her thumbs across her palms and fingers, flicked invisible bit of silt off her hands.

When she looked up, Henry was leaning on the chair back grinning at her.

She frowned, and said in a quarrelsome tone, "Don't make fun of me, Henry!"

He began to respond humorously, when he suddenly sobered.

There was no hint of humor in his face as he said sincerely, "My Lady, will you permit me to attend you?" She nodded, yes, her attention focused on his face.

He took her hand and lead her though the bedroom, to the bathroom. Henry did not look to the side, but Jenny found her gaze lingering on the neatly made bed.

When they were in the small bathroom Henry pulled back the shower curtain and turned on the shower, testing carefully, adjusting the water to a temperature warmer than was normal for him. He stepped over the rim of the tub and stood for a moment with the water pounding against his chest, then stepping back he turned and held his hand out to Jenny, a slight smile playing about his lips.

There was trepidation in her face and she ran her hand once through her hair, making it stand on end. She chewed her lip briefly as she laid her hand in his. As she stepped under the spray of the hot water she felt the delicious warmth on her neck and shoulders.

Jenny began to relax in spite of herself and her head tilted to the side, her eyes drifting closed with the pounding of the water.

Henry was watching her carefully for any sign of fear or discomfort she may feel. Her aura was flowing warmly about her and her scent was an enticing blend of relaxation and a slowly kindling arousal.

Henry was a patient and attentive lover; in four hundred and fifty years he had gained a great deal of experience at drawing himself close to another's body.

Jenny felt the feather touch of Henry's hands on her shoulders. _When had he moved so close?_ She asked herself as she opened her eyes to his intent blue gaze.

"May I?" he asked her as he eased the strap of her bathing suit slightly to one side. She nodded mutely, and he lowered her straps until they were looped around her upper arms. Her hands came up and though she did not push him away, she folded her arms protectively across her body, her thumbs running repeatedly over the scars on her upper chest.

Henry knew from her scent that it was not him, who she resisted, there was no fear. It was the memory of Anthony with which she battled.

He turned his head to the side, and leaning in close, without touching her, tested the air below her ear. He raised his hands back to her shoulders and after a moment was rewarded for his patience when she dropped her arms.

"Let me see you," he whispered to her above the rush of the water.

Jenny knew how she looked under the warmth of the shower; her burns were raised and deep red against the paler skin in the small unmarred areas. This was not the gentle and forgiving light of the fire and she thought she wanted to say no, wanted to hide her scars… Under his gaze she found herself nodding her permission.

Henry willed her to allow him to proceed, though he did not bring his will to bear on her. He felt her poised for flight; it was as though she were balanced on a knife edge.

He slowed his pace and clamped down on his own growing desire. He peeled the wet suit slowly back to reveal her breasts. His gaze fell to her nipples, unmarred and spread large and pale in the heat of the shower. They were surrounded on all sides by the swirling pattern of scars.

He glanced to her face, but her eyes were closed, her lashes clumped and wet against her cheeks. Gathering the wet material in his hands he lowered the suit still further until her torso was bare to her pubis.

Her lower body was covered with the same red rough scarring, even to the wet curls of dark hair edging out from the clinging material. When he had lowered the suit to her knees, she lifted her feet one after the other, her hand on the wall for support, while she stepped clear.

He rose to face her; she was watching him with eyes that were deep blue and haunted. He leaned past her, brushing seductively close as he picked up his shampoo.

"May I?" he asked her permission again. He wished to do nothing that would make her flee him. With his hand under her chin, he tilted her head back and allowed the spray to drench her hair, the short and black spiked cap of her hair, which he found irresistible.

The scent of his shampoo was spicy and masculine, recognizably his scent, and as he worked it into her hair the vampire awoke. Even by proxy, the smell of his scent on her stirred his possessive nature. He leaned forward and he tilted her head back to rinse the shampoo from her hair.

"Close your eyes," he said, and she complied, lifting her head up and back, exposing the long column of her throat. Henry licked his lips and then leaned in and kissed her, softly at first, and then as the vampire stirred again, more insistently.

He could feel the moment when he passed her comfort level and she began to tense. He retreated and brought his hands back the neutral territory of her shoulders.

He poured more shampoo in his hand and lathered her hair a second time. Jenny could feel the shampoo running warm and frothy down her back. She kept her eyes closed against the soap, but she felt as Henry's hands left her hair and traveled slippery with soap down the smooth skin of her throat and shoulders.

She felt the fingertips of his smooth and clever hands run over her scars and then his palms come round to cup her breasts, the soap slick under his thumbs as they briefly circled her nipples. She felt an unfamiliar tightening and lifting of her breasts in response to his touch but his hand had moved on.

Henry had extended his senses fully as he passed his hands over her flesh, his fingers sensitive to the minute movements of the musculature under his hands. He was attuned to her scent. His eyes, though hooded by his own mounting desire, gauged the ebb and flow of her aura.

Gently he led her. His hands slipped around again so that his fingers were splayed against her back and his palms lifting slightly under her ribs, re-announcing his presence. Then back around so that his palm rested flat against the rough surface of her taunt belly and his other palm pressed against the small of her back. She felt her body held between his hands.

She opened her eyes and watched as he knelt before her. Some part of Jenny wanted Henry's hands on her, his touch soothed some raw wound that Anthony had left. Yet, some other part of her gibbered in fear at the sexual promise in that intimate touch. _How many times had Anthony forced her, hurt her to arouse himself? _

Henry revered her body; as she closed her eyes she could sense it in his touch. Under his hands her outward scars mattered not at all. He was dedicated to her pleasure. She found this intoxicating. He wanted her.

_Anthony had wanted only her pain and surrender. He could only arouse himself through her terror. _

Henry's palm slipped lower to press briefly over the curls of her mons. His palm flat, he provided an even and gentle pressure and her hips flexed forward of their own accord. She felt a liquid heat kindle in her belly as he turned his face up to hers.

When their eyes met and she drew in a shallow breath, he continued to run his hands downwards to her thighs, his thumbs creasing the long muscles along their inner sides, then onward again to her ankles. Jenny watched enthralled as he glanced up eyes twinkling. Smiling, he gently tugged upward on one of her ankles; she wobbled and then leaned forward to steady herself, her hands on his broad shoulders.

He put more shampoo in his palm and then he washed first one foot and then the other. His hands on the soles of her feet were deft but she was ticklish and she began to giggle and struggle a bit in his grasp. He smiled gently from below her as he looked into her face, then his expression focused and she stilled as she felt his long fingers slide between her toes and curl beneath her sole. The base of his fingers spread her toes wide and she felt an erotic pressure on the sensitive web of skin between them. She caught her breath and her eyes drifted closed.

When she felt Henry rise, she opened her eyes to look at him. Though he held himself a careful distance from her, as she looked down, even beneath his swim trunks his desire for her was evident. She had thought she would be more frightened but she felt empowered. She had evoked this response in him. He looked clear eyed into her face, and something in her melted.

Henry felt her trust in him, he saw it in how her aura settled and scented it in the sharp increase of her arousal. He felt her relax into a calm state of acceptance.

Deep within him he felt his desire for her grow commensurate with what he interpreted as her acceptance of him.

Yet she made no move towards him and he saw wariness creep back into her eyes. Keeping his eyes on her face, Henry reached down to remove his swimming trunks, and then twisted his torso away to pick up the shampoo.

Her cheeks flamed and Jenny's eyes dropped to his body's display of his desire. He was artfully made, and beautiful. His erect sex exhibited the same eagerness as his spirit. Jenny had not thought that her palms would ache with the desire to touch, even as her fear kept her arms at her sides.

His grin was impish as he took her shoulders and reversed their bodies in an awkward little shuffle in the close confines of the tub. For a moment they were all elbows and knees but eventually his back was to the water.

Jenny stood watching as he lathered his hair. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes against the sting of the soap. His muscled arms and shoulders flexed as he lifted his arms to run his hands through his hair. Jenny's eyes tracked the frothing water as it ran down his chest and over the planes of his torso. She glanced back up to see him begin to move his hands over his own chest.

Henry could sense her attention though he held his eyes closed. He could scent her fear quite strongly now and he knew that she struggled.

He passed his own palms over his chest still slick with the soap. He held the vampire tightly as he felt her hands come down over his own and she began to follow his movements. He shook his curls out of his eyes, drops of water flying. He gazed at her as he slipped his hands out from under hers and dropped them to his sides. Jenny, her head down, continued to run her hands gently over his chest and then lower down to his belly.

Henry drew in a gusting breath, and though he longed to reach for her, held his hands at his sides. When she looked up at him from under her lashes, he could not restrain the broad smile that overtook his face.

Jenny pulled back a bit and with a small smile of her own said, "The last time I washed you; you weren't quite so…responsive."

He smiled cheekily, "Ah! But tonight you have my attention."

Henry watched her as she moved closer to him; he could hear her heart racing and he knew she risked much. She took tiny steps. He watched her nipples contracting. He heard her whisper, "I'm cold Henry." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close under the cascading water, his silken desire caught between their bodies.

This time he didn't ask but whisked her up into his arms and a moment later set her down on the floor outside of the tub. Holding her to his chest with one arm he reached for the towel with his other. His groping fingertips missed the fabric and growling under his breath, he reached again extending his arm further. He snagged the end of the soft fabric and pulled the towel around her shoulders. Using the towel slung behind her back, he edged Jenny forward until their bellies were touching, his erection trapped in the enticing pressure and warmth between them.

He bent his head and claimed her lips, kissing her joyously, pulling her lower lip into his mouth and denting it with his blunt teeth.

She tasted, she tasted…, forgetting himself he held her tightly in his encircling arms. He pushed forward with his hips and thighs forcing her back towards the door and the bedroom beyond. His eyes closed, he was eager as his tongue sought entrance to her mouth. His body framed the age old question.

Her sudden denial was as resounding as a slap. She twisted in his arms, struggling and turning her face to the side. The scent of her fear was sharp in his nose and she struggled until he released his hold.

His eyes were confused and hurt at her rejection, "Forgive me, I thought…" he heard himself mutter.

Her moment of terror subsided as soon as he released his grasp on her body.

_I will not be a coward_, she thought. _I will not allow Anthony's shade to come between us. _

She stepped forward and began to run her hands over his chest and arms slowly and then more quickly as he stood frozen with his hands at his sides. It was as though she were trying to commit who he was to her memory. Her arms went round him.

He looked into her face and said in a ragged whisper, "You have to tell me what you want me to do."

"Will you let me love you?" she asked fearfully, "Will you let me?"

Sudden comprehension bloomed in his eyes, his pupils dilating as he nodded, "I will do whatever is your will, Lady," he responded.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter break

Henry felt her warm hands on his back. She trailed her fingers over his skin as light as a breath, circling, and his hands twitched where he held them to his sides. He pulled in her fragrance, a potent combination of lust and fear, eliciting a powerful yearning in man and vampire alike. He wanted her, needed her, now. He wanted her trust, the feel of her flesh beneath him, around him, wanted her love. He wanted to come as close as he could to her, to take her into himself to…

_I frightened her_, he thought; _I frightened her in my carelessness._ _She must find her own way on this path._

Her hands dropped to the small of his back and her breath caught on his shoulder as she laid her cheek against him. He felt the warm wetness of her tears on his chest and then the pressure of her lips as she laid a row of soft kisses across his clavicle until her nose rested just above the hollow of his throat.

_Jesu_, he thought and involuntarily shifted forward slightly as the vampire responded to the stimulation.

Her breath was warm as she whispered her instructions. "You cannot hold me…let me have you, trust me."

He stilled himself as she lifted her eyes to his face, her gaze intent as she fought her fears to make her way towards him.

Henry felt her lean her weight up and against him as she lifted her lips to his. He watched her eyes close as he felt the tip of her tongue lick once under his lower lip and then felt her demanding entrance to his mouth. As he parted his lips she swept inside, and for a long moment he was lost in her taste again.

He was lost in her taste, her life, as she breached his defenses with a single kiss. The battle was engaged.

She brought her hands up to his shoulders and then ran them down his arms, his flesh tingling with erotic warmth where she touched. She closed her hands around his wrists. She wanted him to be still. She thought to constrain him.

_The vampire balked, ancient memories of his forced submission to his sire, roiled just below the surface of his thoughts._

His shoulders tightened and he rocked slightly back. She followed relentless, her mouth on his. He was imprisoned by her need, by her desire as surely as if she had used iron shackles instead of her slim fingers to restrain him.

She mimicked his earlier actions as she pushed her hips against him, trapping his erection between their bodies, and forcing him backwards. He gave way. He could feel the softness of her breasts thrust against the wall of his chest, resilient and weighty, could feel the pounding of her heart reverberating inside his own body, and her scent, God…her scent, her fear and need pummeled at his control.

She pursued him, her body moving in concert with his, and a moment later his calves brushed against the side of the bed; he could retreat no further.

Her tongue roamed the inside of his mouth, and he moaned aloud as she refused to allow him to engage her tongue, instead requiring that he submit to her explorations. She brought her hands to the back of his head and tangled her fingers in his hair. She pulled his face forward and down angling herself so that she could probe deeper into his mouth.

He felt her tongue touch the roof of his mouth, pressing against his pallet, in a sensation so reminiscent of feeding, that he felt his eyes darken. Her tongue passed inquiringly around his teeth, and he could feel the dull ache of his fangs as he fought to hold them retracted.

When she withdrew, she looked into his face and licked her swollen lips, her eyes smoky blue and in their depths was a need for which Henry had no name. He knew that the same need resided inside him.

She over-toppled him and he fell against the coverlet, his muscular arms spread at his sides and his legs bent at the knee, his feet resting flat on the floor and she stood above him.

Her chest was rising and falling rapidly as her eyes roved over his body. Her breasts were tightened and the wrinkled brown skin of her areola surrounded her erect and pointed nipples.

Henry lay still, his lips lifting in a challenging smile. His blue eyes and his body broadcast the same message_, I want you…I want you, come closer. Come to me, I'm waiting._

His manhood, proudly displayed, yearned upwards towards her, the skin of his scrotum wrinkling and folding as his testes tightened in his arousal. Henry watched her as she bent forward, leaning over him. She rested her weight on one arm, and brought the other hand up and between his legs to first cup and then slowly massage his sac.

Her eyes met his and though he longed to reach for her, to draw her close, to feel her rapid heartbeat next to his slower one, her eyes told him…_wait._

She leaned in further when she understood he was not going to move. She rained kiss after kiss on his lips and cheeks, her nipples brushing against his own sensitive flesh.

When he felt her hand come up to encircle his engorged shaft, he caught a shuddering breath. She was so close, hovering just out of reach; her blood pounded through her veins and her breath was warm and sweet on his face.

As she had moved closer, the provocative and intensely 'human' smell of her arousal washed over him anew. the vampire reached out towards that promise. Henry's hands bunched the coverlet. She stroked his length, wrapping and re-wrapping her fingers snug around him with a squeezing gentle rhythm. He breathed her name in entreaty, "Jenny…please."

She allowed her body to drop over him and he felt her heated flesh as a pressing weight along the length of his body. She shifted the grasp of her hand so that his sensitive tip was hitting her palm with each stroke she made as he lay beneath her. His hips began to lift of their own accord, pushing himself into her grasp. She slowed and lifted her head to look into his eyes.

"Show me, Henry," she whispered. "Show me the monster."

He lifted his head off the bed as the low growl thrummed in his chest. The sting of her words was mitigated by the look in her eyes. She meant no slander, no hurt. She had honed in on her course, following it to the end, she knew where she needed to venture.

She needed this, she needed to conquer and this need he understood.

_She needed to conquer, as had he, when he was new made and had once again found himself._

His eyes darkened as she gazed down on him, his fangs erupted and he drew back his lips. Her gentle rhythm never altered as she rolled his satiny skin forward and back, forward and back along his length.

Her lips dropped to his throat. She breathed against his quivering flesh, her readiness… "Now, Henry, can we love?" Then he felt her blunt teeth close on his throat.

The warning growl that had hung vibrating in the air became a hungry roar, as his hands came up and grasp her hips. In a single swift move Henry lifted her by her hips, swinging both of their bodies up to lie full length on the bed.

Everything that he was wanted to roll atop her, to cover her with his body, to possess and to drink. Yet he held himself in check, a prisoner to her need. He could feel the bunched and rumpled coverlet beneath his back as he held her poised above his hips. Her eyes were wide and her aura blazed like golden fire along her skin. _She would need to decide, could he wait for her?_

Though his sex jumped and twitched behind her, he lowered her slowly until he could feel the soft, slick, wetness of her curls against his belly. Her weight was on the bed, her legs on either side of his slim hips where she knelt. His grasp loosened and his hands slid sensuously down her body to rest cupped behind her knees. He reveled in the pulsing movement of her blood beneath his fingertips.

She rocked forward, placing her hands flat on his chest for balance. She could feel under her palm, his heart slowly beating out the measure of his eternity under the cool pale skin.

Henry's black gaze was no longer opaque but glitteringly transparent and she glimpsed behind his eyes an existence that she could not begin to imagine. He turned his head down and to the side to draw in the scent of her hand, his scent, his scent on her as she came to him. His voice though hoarse with need, beckoned her to have the courage to move forward. "Can we love?" he moaned the question.

Tears sprang to her eyes, at the gift he offered her, and she reached her hand behind her to grasp him. She lifted herself to her knees and then shifting back, she guided him to her opening. She threw her head back with eyes closed as she lowered herself gently and carefully over his length, until she had taken him completely inside her. She felt the solidity of his pubic bone where she rocked back to sheath him more fully.

Henry felt the weight shift to her palms against his chest as she released him slowly, as she raised herself up off him, and then the pressure of her weight lifted as once more he was enfolded in the slick warmth of her flesh. For all of his tight control his hips arched up to meet her thrusts as he lay beneath her and the skin of his thighs shifted and twitched like the skin of a skittish colt. For a few moments she rode him and she gathered back to herself that which had been stolen. When she was able she collapsed against him and with her lips to his ear whispered, "Please."

Released from thrall, his arms drew up around her; he pulled her to him, in an instinctive, possessive, embrace. She stiffened as he thrust himself deep inside her. Henry rolled them over so that he lay atop of her, resting the weight of his upper body on his elbows, while allowing the weight of his lower body to push down on her, pinning her to the bed.

He waited a moment, gauging her reaction, and when he felt her arch her back against the mattress, pushing herself against him, he drew a wondering hand down her cheek and traced her lips briefly with his finger tip, hissing sharply as she moved her head forward to nip at the end of his finger.

"Are you going to bite me?" she asked in a seductive whisper eyeing his emergent fangs.

He withdrew a few inches and then wriggling his hips, worked his way slowly back up inside her until he was buried to the root, before he replied. His smile was both crooked and predatory as he said. "Only if you ask me to…"

His rhythm was slow and thorough, as he moved within her. He was mindful of her pleasure and yet he would not be denied. Jenny's thighs loosened and bowed out to the sides as she accepted him, raising herself in time to meet his thrusts. He did not tease her, but instead brought her with him each step of the way. He bowed his head, his curls falling forward, and rested his forehead on her chin, as he began to pick up speed and Jenny's world began to dissolve into a dark surging abyss. She clutched at his muscular back as she came to the very edge of the precipice. He raised his head to look into her face and as he began to shudder, she looked into the night incarnate in his eyes.

"Please," she said, turning her head to the side, and offering up the long sweep of her throat. "Let me, let me…give this to…"

He carried her with him, over the edge as his fangs slipped through her flesh in that secondary and final coupling.

Henry could do no more than mold his lips to her flesh as his release took him as soon as he felt Jenny's walls clench and ripple around him. He did nothing more than to hold tightly to her, his tongue pressed hard against his fangs to staunch the flow of her blood as their hips jerked in their thrusting dance, waiting, until they had both quieted.

Jenny could hear and feel Henry's breath behind her ear. He lay with his face pressed to the pillow on which she rested, his fangs embedded in her flesh. She could feel a slight sweet pain where his tongue pressed against her flesh. She heard his muffled sigh and felt him, gently withdraw his manhood from her. She put one hand on the back of his neck, under his curls and pressed his head against her throat, preventing him from moving away.

"Take part of me," she urged him gently, as she felt him tense at her actions. "Take something of me with you. Please."

Jenny felt his sigh soft in the tiny hairs along her nape. She felt a release of the cool pressure of his tongue against her flesh, and then sudden liquid warmth immediately followed by a slow ache as he began to feed. She could sense the rise of his tongue to his pallet as he created the suction to draw the blood from the bite. He shifted slightly against her, nuzzling closer. Her hand dropped to his shoulder and she felt the first warm stirrings of pleasure, _his pleasure or her pleasure_?

She could hear the soft liquid sounds in his throat as he drew and swallowed, drew and swallowed. She reveled in the soft and gentle moans of enjoyment he exhaled against her skin. When he paused, she brought her other arm up to enclose him in her embrace, urging him on. He began to feed again in a slow and relaxed rhythm, congruent with her heart's beating. She slipped into a spiraling undertow of pleasure and she spun down and down…

Henry held on, prolonging this experience as long as he could, she gave to him, gave…that sweet flow, her passion spent. He drifted as he suckled with gentle affection. At last he knew he had to stop.

She dozed as he withdrew his fangs. He gently swept his tongue across the small punctures. He rested his head for a moment more on her shoulder and then sighing, disentangled himself from her arms.

Jenny roused a little, raising her head, as he drew a fold of the comforter across her body.

"Henry?" she said questioningly.

"Shhhh, sleep my love," he whispered. "It's almost dawn, I must to go."

"Don't forget to say…good bye," she muttered.

"I won't," he promised with a sad smile. He allowed compulsion to drift into his voice… "Sleep."


	32. Chapter 32

_Two years later…._

_Toronto November 1964_

The vampire watched the gallery from the shadows where he sheltered. From across the busy street, viewed through the large windows, the gallery appeared brightly lit and warm.

In front of his vantage point, the cars passed by on the street, their spinning wheels casting up spumes of water from the road's surface. In the dark, the cars' lights washed the reflective surface of the asphalt with watery red and yellow wavering reflections.

The air was chill with late November's prelude to true winter. The scent of car exhaust and the crystalline scent of the threatening snow warred for supremacy. Henry looked up to the whitened sky above him, and thought, _when the air cools in the dark of the early morning then the city will be granted the blanketing white respite of the snow._

He flexed his long fingers inside the supple leather of his gloves, and pulled the sleeves of his coat down over his wrists. He hated the cold draft that crept up his sleeves to whisper against his forearms. He had fed less than twenty minutes ago and he had made sure he was fully sated. His flesh was warm and flushed with the blood. He pondered briefly, the fact that directly after feeding, when his temperature was elevated, the cold night, somehow, felt less welcoming.

He watched as two taxis pulled up in front of the gallery simultaneously. Each disgorging two expensively dressed couples onto the cold sidewalk. Dark suits, satin, brocades and soft furs clothed their glowing frames. They greeted each other, with clasped hands and brushed artificial kisses in the vicinity of powdered and perfumed cheeks.

The eight humans stood in a huddling group on the sidewalk, surrounded in the white cloud of their own breath while the pleasantries were exchanged. As Henry watched, one of the males opened the gallery door and motioned that the others should precede him inside. The low soothing sounds of a string section issued from the open door, underscored by the pulsing sound of a hundred heartbeats that reverberated on the night air.

The vampire turned up his collar and ran a hand through his tumbled curls. He knew he was delaying the inevitable. _I never should have agreed to this_ he thought_. _Stefan's repeated rational requests that he attend the show's opening, followed by his increasingly emotional entreaties and finally his shameless and relentless pleading had worn down even Henry's resolve..._ I will only need to stay for an hour, and I will have fulfilled my part of the bargain._

Watching the traffic light at the end of the block, Henry waited patiently for a break in the line of cars that flowed by. When the light changed to red, traffic slowed and he picked his way carefully across the puddled road. He hated cold wet feet as much as the next person.

Steeling himself visibly, Henry composed his features, straightened his shoulders, and opened the gallery door.

Show openings were a necessary part of the artist's life. Henry knew this and intellectually at least he accepted it. However his general rule was that he declined to appear at his own shows. Though this course of action protected him from exposure to public scrutiny for the most part, the mystery that this policy created around him had the undesired effect of increasing his celebrity in the art community.

Henry's work was well received and an original Fitzroy was a sought after commodity in the elite community of Toronto society. Any opening of a show of his work would be well attended, but one where a rumor of his appearance had been circulated, created a whole separate level of excitement.

_I should wring Stefan's nec_k, he thought morosely to himself as he surveyed the glittering gathering, his eyes narrowed in discomfort at the brilliant light reflecting around the white walled, high ceilinged rooms.

Any misguided hope he had cherished of spending at least a portion of the allotted hour unnoticed vanished as he heard Stefan's distinctive voice raised from across the room.

"Why here is our esteemed guest of honor now!" the gallery owner crowed. As Stefan sailed flamboyantly across the room towards him Henry clamped down unmercifully on the sudden impulse to bolt, and with a firm smile on his face, held out his hand to Stefan.

The refrain that was running through his head was, _I have made a deal with the devil; I have made a deal with…_

Stefan grasped Henry by the arm and pulled him close so that he could whisper in his ear, "You're late! You almost gave me apoplexy; I thought you weren't going to show. You owe me a whole hour Henry, that was what you promised."

The mask was still smiling amiably as Henry growled low to Stefan, "One hour, Stefan, no more…" as he began to pull off his gloves. When he had unbuttoned his jacket Stephan lifted it off his shoulders as he shrugged free of the sleeves.

Stefan was no fool, he had been dealing with Henry Fitzroy for almost three years now, and he knew that though the artist was drop dead gorgeous, with his long curling hair and blue eyes and that delectable sensuous mouth_…here he uttered an inward sigh at his rule against mixing business and pleasure…_he was also an extremely talented artist and the mystery around him was a marketable commodity. He linked his arm through Henry's as he handed his jacket to the coat check girl.

"Oh! Alright then Henry," he said with a honeyed smile, "Do the rounds with me now for a while, and then you can just mingle as you see fit. I want you to know that eighty percent of the works are already sold. You have been the topic of every conversation this evening, mystery man, so just let them get a look at the artist who created the works that they are buying. Oh!" he patted Henry's hand familiarly, earning himself a dark glance, which he totally disregarded, "and be particularly nice to the Honorable Paul Gillespie and his wife. They bought three pieces as gifts for foreign embassies."

For the next forty minutes, Stephan worked the room, moving from group to group of notables with Henry in tow. _To listen to him_ Henry thought, _one would think that he painted the works himself._ Stefan was loud and ebullient in his praise of Henry's work.

Henry was uncomfortable and bored. At each group of people that Stefan dragged him to, he was his practiced, charming and personable self. He cringed inwardly at the stranger's hands that caressed his arms or shoulders, the empty kisses sketched against his cheeks or worse the whispered advances and the seductive looks, all of which held the echoes of avarice in his mind.

Yet having grown up in the intrigues of life at court, Henry was in a familiar element. Though his mood was cynical, he moved smoothly and effectively among them, the predator hidden and subtle in this glittering landscape.

Stefan was an excellent host; the champagne and food was impeccable as always. Finally, Stefan pressed a champagne flute into his hand and said, "All right Henry, you've been a very good boy. Now why don't you just mingle for a bit." The condescension and satisfaction in Stefan's dismissal, made Henry grit his teeth…_a deal with the_ _devil…_he thought shaking his head.

Stefan waved at the caterer and swiftly moved off through the crowd on some important mission, leaving Henry adrift in the center of the floor. He sipped pensively from the flute as he gazed around. He was tired of the duplicity, tired of the rhythm of their heartbeats and the cacophony of their forced and banal conversation.

He caught the trace of a scent, familiar and merged with distinctly welcome floral cologne, the scent of comfort underlying all. His eyes swung to a small knot of people grouped in front of a single piece.

A few strides brought him quickly across the floor and into the first truly welcome embrace of the evening. Ann Chadwick released him and held him by the shoulders at arm's length. "You look well, Henry," she said warmly, and then added in a whisper, "I didn't think that you would ever escape from Stefan's clutches!"

"Ann… William," Henry said as he shook William Chadwick's hand, "I am so glad you could come. Ann, I have to say that I went to the Roman Gallery last week and had a look at the new series you have hung there. It is a very intriguing combination of wood cut and watercolor in that series, very graphic. I have to admit that I was lusting after the large piece of Dalton Island rising out of the mist. Are you continuing with that mixed media technique in your current work?"

"Why thank you for the compliment, Henry," Ann said as she rested her hand on his arm, "but we are here to admire your work tonight," as she directed his attention to the piece at hand.

"You've captured her exactly, something in the eyes…" Ann said as she regarded Jenny's reflection staring out into the gallery. "Collection of the Artist, Henry?" she questioned. "I have seen the 'private' version of this piece in your collection; I am surprised that you are holding on to both."

Henry shrugged a little ruefully, "I am just not ready to part with it yet," he said smiling.

Ann continued, all the while watching him closely, "It was too bad that when you were visiting with us at the cabin last July Jenny was still in Paris, I am sure that she would have loved to see you."

"Actually Ann, Jen visited with me in Toronto that January; she was on her way to Greece, if I remember correctly. We had a few evenings together then," Henry said.

"And…?" Ann knew she shouldn't but she just couldn't seem to help herself.

Henry smiled broadly and said as he put his arm around Ann's shoulder, "And…she was well."

Henry stiffened as Stefan's proprietary hand fell on his shoulder. William watched as Henry turned his head to the side, his smile hardening at the exposed wrist so close to his lips.

Stefan spoke, blissfully unaware of his peril. "You know, we have had several very attractive offers on this piece but I simply can't seem to convince Henry here to part with it. It's so mysterious and evocative, and our artist here just won't share the story behind it," he said petulantly.

Tall and thin, William came to Henry's aid. Staring off over Stefan's head, he laid a hand on his arm and said, "Stefan, I do believe that's Raoul Fernandez, the buyer for the Provincial Museum of Art coming in the door."

Henry smiled his thanks as Stephan sailed away across the room.

Ann placed her palm on Henry's arm and said, "Henry, when you are done here, I would like it very much if you could come back to the house with William and me, we have something for you."

Henry smiled, "My sentence was actually up five minutes ago, I have paid my debt to…Stefan…so I am free to leave here as soon as you are ready," he said, accepting her invitation with alacrity.

Henry always found Ann and William's home to be as warm and inviting as they were. He felt the familiar sense of ease encompass him as William took his coat and hung it in the closet at the door.

The house was large and yet unassuming and the interior was a cozy and a blessedly dimly lit combination of textured plaster and deep colored wood work. Ann's artwork was everywhere, though Henry could glimpse through an archway that led to the dining room, one of his own landscapes above the sideboard.

Henry turned to her and said, "I am anxious to see your new work, can we take a peek into your studio?"

She took his hand, "Perhaps later Henry dear, I have something else that I want to show you," she said.

William asked genially, "What do you say to a brandy in the den, Henry?" as they moved further into the house.

Henry's brow furrowed when he saw the home projector and screen set up in the den when they came into the room. "Are we going to watch home movies?" he asked uncertainly.

William moved to the console table and poured out three golden measures of brandy from the heavy decanter into the waiting snifters. Ann picked up a glass and Henry watched as she held the bowl between her cupped palms swirling the liquid gently. It was an old tradition between them; she always warmed his brandy in this way, to a temperature, he could not physically achieve. He smiled as he scented the aroma of the liquid. When she was satisfied, she handed him the snifter and picked up her own as he sipped.

William crossed to the projector and said, "We were at the cabin this past weekend, it was so cold that the pipes froze at Bill Johnston's place, he really should get them insulated, but in the end we got them warmed up before they burst. Anyways, we saw Lily Phelps while we were there and she gave us this for you. She said that she had filmed it in September some time."

Henry's head came up as he heard Lily's name. The sweetness of the brandy was warm on his tongue. "How was Lily?" he asked Ann.

"Oh you know, Lily," Ann replied, "Did you know, she was accepted to the Ontario College of Art, for next semester? I am told that her portfolio was quite impressive."

Henry was startled, "I didn't even know that…"

"No one did," Ann said, "apparently it was quite a recent development. Do you mind getting the lights Henry; it saves us stumbling around in the dark…"

Henry crossed back to the sofa where Ann was seated after switching off the lights. His eyes were captured by the flickering images on the screen as the projector came up to the correct speed. William fiddled with a small knob and suddenly the blurry images came into focus. There was no sound save for the rattle of the spools of film as they spun, on the projector.

As he stood, at ease, leaning against the back of the sofa, Henry recognized the view, a view that he had only ever experienced illuminated by moonlight. It was the lake, the shallows where he loved to rest.

His eyes devoured the location as it appeared now, brightly sunlit, and jumping slightly in the choppy quality of the film.

The trees of the island, just offshore, were a study in contrasts, the cool and eternal deep green of the pines against the brilliant perishing blaze of the autumn leaves.

The snifter hung in his hand forgotten as he watched Jenny walk into the camera's view. She was laughing and rosy, splashing through the shallows, her slacks rolled up to her knees. She held up her arm shading her eyes with her hand and squinted into the camera.

Her hair was drawn back into a short dark ponytail and the satiny bangs against her brow lifted and moved in the breeze.

He watched as she beckoned and a bearded young man joined her.

Even after two years, the vampire stirred as the young man stood behind Jenny and looped his arms around her waist. She patted his arm and he dropped his head to her shoulder, nuzzling against her.

Henry closed his eyes briefly remembering her scent, and reminded himself, she was not his. When he opened his eyes, he could see the view of Lily's feet walking through the silt clouded water.

William chuckled, but Ann was quiet, her eyes on Henry.

In a dizzying movement the camera swung up again and he was now looking close up into Jenny's face and her dancing blue eyes. He watched as her lips moved silently in the words which spoke loud in his heart.

_We can love, Henry. Thank you._

She brought her fingers to her lips and the sun caught in a flare on the diamond of the engagement ring on her hand.

She kissed her fingertips gently and then her lips pursed as she blew the kiss toward him.

Henry sighed and then as he caught Ann's eyes on him, nodded. Jenny's image was replaced by a few flickering frames of blank film.

Henry's eyes narrowed and teared in the brilliant white light of the blank screen. His ears registering the flap, flap, flap of the end of the film in the projector. He bought up a hand to his brow to shelter his eyes as William turned the room's lights back on.

Ann drew a large, cream colored envelope from the drawer of the console and handed it to Henry.

"Jenny sent this for you," she said, her eyes on his face.

"Thank you," he said as he slid the envelope inside his suit coat pocket. He raised the snifter to Ann, and when she and William both held theirs aloft he said, "To Jenny…to life!"

It was close to dawn, when Henry sat alone in his studio.

He regarded the portrait of Jenny, from his personal collection, where he had set it on his easel.

She sat at the dressing table, her reflection gazing out at him, a slight smile bowing the full lips and her brow broad and clear. Her skin was smooth and flawless beneath the brilliant golden nimbus that surrounded her. The glowing cloud appeared at least a hand span deep.

Liquid fire blazed in a branching network that flowed outwards from where her heart was concealed beneath the embroidered parlet of the gown. All else in the painting was faded and cold in comparison to her splendor.

Henry tilted his head to one side, and a calm and serene smile graced his lips. He removed the envelope from his pocket and breaking the seal withdrew an engraved card. He lowered his eyes and read,

"_The families of Michel Laurent and Jenny Phelps, request the pleasure of your attendance_…"


	33. Chapter 33

*** EPILOGUE***

_Late June 1965_

_The Lodge at Three Mile Lake_

As the night settled soft and deep over the smooth waters of the lake…the moon climbed slowly, her wavering refection liquid as the waters. The small star that dogged her shone clear in the purpled air of the late June sky.

As William pulled into the entry, Henry could see from the back seat that the parking lot of the Lodge was busy and full of cars; there were humans everywhere in couples or singly, in glittering evening wear.

Ann laid her arm along the seat back and looking at Henry said, "Are you sure you are all right Henry, perhaps you should have taken time to feed, before coming here, you arrived so early this morning and…"

"I'll be fine…_Mother_!" Henry said with a cheeky grin. "If I feel the sudden overwhelming desire, to bite some poor innocent bridesmaid…I'll come and find you," he continued patting Ann's arm lightly. Then as he placed a kiss on her cheek, he paused to inhale loudly and uttered a dramatic "Mmmmm!" as he smacked his lips.

Ann slapped at him affectionately, "Forgive my concern," she smiled, "But don't blame me when everyone notices your stomach rumbling!"

William parked the car and Henry was out and opening Ann's door in a moment. As she placed her hand in his he leaned over and said archly, "No one ever notices, until it's too late."

"Oh! William. Protect me from this rake!" Ann cried in a theatric falsetto, her hand to her heart and her eyelashes fluttering.

"Why certainly, my dear!" William said dramatically, and he leaned over to look steadily into Henry's face.

"Bugger off Fitzroy…this damsel is spoken for!" he said.

"I beg your pardon, then. Sir…Madam, the Bride and Groom await…"

Ann, William and Henry, laughing, retrieved the wedding gifts from the trunk and walking arm in arm started for the Lodge.

The Lodge itself sat in the midst of the early summer gardens, washed in the color of the floodlights. The interior of building was aglow with the lights of the reception in progress, lights that twinkled and refracted from the beveled panes of the windows.

The log pillars of the portico were festooned with yards and yards of white netting. Large honeycomb tissue wedding bells hung far overhead as they passed beneath through the open doors into the crowded lobby.

_Perhaps I should have taken Ann's advice more seriously,_ Henry thought as a multitude of heart beats and a host of scents surrounded him. _What was it about weddings that inevitably evoked the heightened sense of excitement and arousal in the human female,_ he pondered?

Ann's voice distracted him from his thoughts as she took his hand, "Follow me, gentlemen, the party is in the Northland and on the deck beyond."

The wedding reception was in full swing, the dinner long over, and the tables cleared away to allow for the dancing. The French doors on the far side of the restaurant were thrown open to the large deck that was strung with fairy lights and lanterns. There were a great many guests seated at small candlelit tables, around the perimeter, both indoors and out.

William and Henry paused just inside the door to add their gifts to overflowing table. Henry was just straightening from leaning the large flat gift against the table, when he was surrounded by a familiar and welcome scent. He felt a pair of hands fall over his eyes and an excited voice whisper in his ear, "Guess who?"

"Lily," he said promptly and turned, smiling at her exasperated sigh. His eyes crinkled as he tapped his nose and shrugged eloquently.

"Party pooper!" she said as she threw her arms around his neck. I am so glad you could come." Then glancing down looking at the gift, she said, "Is that what I think it is?"

"That really depends on what you think it is," he said smiling.

"Fine be that way," Lily said as she took him by the arm. Smiling at Ann and William she said, "Jenny has been asking me ever since the sun went down if Henry was here yet, she is very anxious to see him, so if you'll excuse us?"

Ann made a little shooing motion with her hands and as they started away, said smiling, "Henry, remember if…"

"I told you Ann, if I am…then I'll come and find you," he said smiling.

"If you are what…?" Lily inquired as she led him across the floor. Her eyes grew wide for a moment as Henry whispered in her ear, and then she burst out laughing, fluffing out the full puffy skirt of her bridesmaid dress.

Henry realized that he was very seldom surrounded by so many humans who knew his true nature and did not feel threatened by it, and he cherished this moment all the more for the relaxed warmth of their acceptance.

Henry caught Jenny's scent as they came through the French doors on to the deck. He pulled Lily to a halt beside him to allow himself a few moments to marvel at the golden wonder before him.

Seed pearls and crystals sparkled and glistened in the tight form fitting top of her gown. They dotted the full swirling skirts, flaring like hidden jewels in the folds. Antique white and strapless, the gown rose elegantly from the puddled train to her bare shoulders. Her chin was held high and her hair was curled and swept up in jeweled combs the satiny black bangs brushing her brows. She leaned into the body of her attentive and bearded groom. Her golden aura surrounded them both.

The vampire quickened inside Henry and as he watched, she ran a hand down the man's chest and he kissed her lips gently, laying his arm possessively around her waist.

She was conversing with Vera and her husband William and they were laughing at a comment that William had made, when she glanced up and saw Henry and Lily at the door.

She leaned gracefully to whisper in her husband's ear and then grasped his hand to lead him across the deck.

Henry regarded Michel Laurent, as he approached with his hand extended. He heard the soft cadence of his accent as he said, "Hello, you must be Henry. Jenny and Lily have told me so much about you."

Jenny shook her head in a slight _no _at Henry's inquiring glance. _She has not told him what I am, _he thought.

Henry grasped the proffered hand in a firm grip. He nodded slightly to Michel as he said, "_Bonsoir Monsieur! Vous sont un homme le plus fortuné. Mes félicitations sur votre mariage_" *And then he added the instruction more softly. _"Soin d'elle bien!"**_

Michel's face lit in a delighted smile. "_Je le sais bien et je ferai comme vous dites, Monsieur_." ***

Jenny pushed forward and threw her arms around Henry's neck. Henry held his body stiffly but relaxed slightly as Jenny whispered in his ear. "Relax Henry, I have explained to Michel, how much you mean to me, and how much you helped me get over what Anthony did. He understands and Henry, _he loves me_."

Michel drew Lily's hand into his and said, "_Ma petite_…why don't we get some champagne and allow _Henri_ _et_ _ma belle,_ a little time to talk."

When they had moved off, Henry held out his arm and Jenny laid her hand on this sleeve. Her scent was all around him and he listened with most of his attention to the beating of her heart and the soft swishing of her dress as they moved to the very edge of the deck, a little apart from the others.

"Are you happy, Jenny?" he asked her as she settled herself against the railing overlooking the dock and the lake.

She leaned her head against his arm as he stood with both hands on the railing. "Yes, Henry, I am happy in a way I did not know I could be." Henry turned his head to look into her face.

"Then I am content," he said smiling. There was a moment of silence and then as Jenny smoothed the front of her dress down, he said. "It's a beautiful gown, Jenny. It is very becoming."

"Michel, helped me to pick it out. It caused quite a scene in the dress shop actually, the sales people were quite appalled when they saw…" she paused and then smiled gently, " they kept bringing out all these long sleeved, high neck monstrosities, but Michel would have none of it, and said that this dress was the one that suited me best. He said I was beautiful, that I was his, and he wanted the entire world to know how lucky he was."

"He is," Henry said as he looked out to the lake, "and you are."

_You are beautiful and you are his love,_ he told himself.

Michel and Lily returned across the deck, with Ann and William in tow. As Henry turned he saw that William and Michel between them were carrying Henry's wedding gift. As they came closer, Lily cast Henry an apologetic look. "I'm sorry Henry, I just can't wait any longer!" she said, "Please don't be mad!"

Jenny met Henry's eyes as she viewed the dimensions of the large flat package." I didn't think that you… I mean I never saw any…"

Henry stepped back and put his arm around Lily's shoulder and whispered in her ear, "I'll get even with you later!"

But he smiled and nodded as Michel said, "Open it, _cherie_"

Jenny tore away the paper and lifted the flap on the box, her hand going to her mouth as William lifted the painting into view.

Jenny's breath eased out in a long sigh as she saw her image, looking back from the mirror, and meeting her gaze with dark and mysterious eyes.

Her eyes, brimming with tears sought Henry's.

"_Elle est magnifique_,"**** Michel breathed in wonderment.

"_C'est la vérité."*_**** The vampire responded.

Fin

*Good evening Sir! You are a very lucky man. My best wishes on your marriage.

**Treat her well!

***I know that very well and I will do as you say Sir

****She is magnificent,

_****** _That is the truth


End file.
